


finding peace amidst conflict

by redsyub



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Military, Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, First Aid, First Kiss, Forced Cohabitation, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Moral Ambiguity, Moral Dilemmas, Naval Warfare, Period-Typical Homophobia, Slow Burn, Stranded, this might be the most tender thing i've written even if the tags say otherwise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:06:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26249926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redsyub/pseuds/redsyub
Summary: Jihoon has always been conditioned to hate everyone that stood against his homeland, to feel nothing but resentment for them. While his naval squadron is in the course of trying to defend their home base, Jihoon unconsciously gets roped into a sticky situation that is more than he ever bargained for.Or maybe it's a chance to finally find some serenity.
Relationships: Lee Jihoon | Woozi/Wen Jun Hui | Jun
Comments: 35
Kudos: 74





	1. we are at war

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lemooncat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemooncat/gifts).



> hello! let me just put the disclaimer out before anything else — this fic is 100% historically inaccurate. there was no war that ever took place between china and korean empire in 1901. this is seemingly set in the time when aircraft weren't used to aid in war strategies and there is extremely little documentation of naval warfare from that era. in conclusion, I tried my best to depict the war as realistically as I could but the existence of such an elaborate military force during that era is made up. 
> 
> if the tags haven’t managed to warn you off, then i hope you enjoy the story! ♥
> 
> lastly, happy birthday, rye! you asked me to write junhoon months ago. well, surprise!

_ June 22, 1901 _

It’s relatively quiet, the only noise coming from the mighty waves crashing against each other as Jihoon looks out towards the darkness while standing on the forecastle’s deck. He takes a deep breath in and tastes the ocean on his tongue. 

_ Salt and iron.  _

Even in the confines of his cabin, the taste never quite leaves his tongue. It always lingers like a  _ shadow _ under his tongue, corrupting the taste of bland bread and stale water. It stays as a reminder even when Jihoon tries to divert his mind to a simpler time, away from the  _ unrest _ and the  _ slaughtering. _ To a time when he used to stand on an unmoving piece of land and breath in the fresh air of  _ tranquillity _ and  _ innocence. _

But that time seems like a lifetime ago. Nine years to be exact. He was a 16-year-old boy, living a simple life in the countryside, mending to the fields his uncle owned and spinning tops on the dirt tracks. Now, he is the Vice-Admiral in the navy, commanding a naval squadron sailing in front of the fleet of command ordered to interject the enemy ships from capturing their base located at Jinhae. 

In the end, Jihoon is just one of the many sailors fighting for the pride of his motherland. And if he were to die in this war, his death would be sweet and justified. At least that is what everyone keeps  _ repeating _ again and again.

“Jungjang!” Soonyoung’s youthful voice comes from behind him. Jihoon keeps his head straight. It’s only when Soonyoung comes to stand beside him to look at the dark horizon does Jihoon spare him a glance. His face is flushed and there is a wild excitement evident on his face. It’s a good feeling to witness your  _ friend _ looking carefree in such dire times, Jihoon thinks.

Soonyoung is the Captain of this battleship, who commanded his men in the afternoon with a valiant heart to destroy and sink the enemy cruiser that tried to stealthily overtake them. This is the reason why half the men are celebrating their small victory in the main deck while the other half are performing maintenance to repair the damages it incurred in the fight.

“You better hurry back or else all the good food will be gone by the time you decide to grace your presence,” Soonyoung informs him. Jihoon snorts.

“It’s alright. Let the men enjoy this night. Although, I will advise you to go easier on the liquor,” Jihoon looks at him with an accusatory glare.  _ “Daeryeong.” _

Soonyoung doesn’t mind the taunt. 

“Ah! We are young men. And we should cherish the little joys that life gives us.” 

“I think I lost my infant sight the day I killed a man with my bare hands,” Jihoon confesses, his voice tight and emotionless. 

That’s what war does to a person. There is always this constant fear of death looming around in a serviceman’s mind. Jihoon sometimes wonders how Soonyoung manages to maintain a cheerful disposition almost all the bloody time. They both have been fighting side by side for a long time. Both got posted to the same battalion three years ago and have been inseparable ever since. They both have seen the same horrors (although in Jihoon’s case, he has seen worse hence the seniority in their ranks). Yet, Soonyoung has this unbeatable spirit inside him that always chooses to look at the brighter side of life. 

Jihoon can’t deny that Soonyoung’s optimism helps him stay afloat in these dreadful times. He’s like the warm  _ summer breeze _ that Jihoon desperately needs in this rotten fish odour that surrounds him. 

“Jungjang.” The usual chirpiness is gone from the voice. Jihoon turns his head to look at him. Soonyoung’s eyes look sharp and vigilant, all traces of brightness gone. His demeanour commands firmness. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” 

Jihoon’s senses go on  _ high alert. _ He retrieves his binoculars from the pocket of his jacket and focuses it to the direction Soonyoung is looking towards. Behind the light mist, he sees it. The flag of the enemy flitters mockingly in front of the approaching destroyer that is headed towards their battleship. 

“All the hands to battle stations,” Jihoon commands Soonyoung in a low voice. The latter moves away from the deck and starts running towards the bridge.

_ “Attention! _ All the hands to battle stations!” Soonyoung yells at the top of his lungs. His commands are followed by the ringing of the bells. One by one, men come out of the main deck and run towards their respective places. Jihoon quietly makes his way towards the commanding station as well but is interrupted by Third Mate’s screams from the monkey island. 

“The ship has been  _ invaded _ by the enemy. I repeat, the ship has been invaded by the enemy.” Jihoon’s blood runs cold. Fear is the first emotion he registers. The adrenaline sparks up his nerves. And then, he’s running with all he’s got. He only has a single thought in his mind, repeating again and again.

_ He can’t die tonight. _

Jihoon starts climbing the stairs towards the bridge. Meanwhile, the enemy’s destroyer shoots their cannon and the projectile lands in the water near his ship. The impact shakes the vessel and water from the ocean pours over them with heavy force making few of the men lose their balance. Jihoon stumbles in his ascent but still manages to climb up with the support of railings. 

“Battle stations!  _ Fire!” _ Jihoon orders. The Chief Mate orders his juniors and fires the shot. Jihoon braces himself and covers his ears. It’s still loud. The ringing persists as he finally reaches the bridge. 

Soonyoung looks feral. He’s giving commands to the Lieutenants while the Ensign is sending distress signals to the centre vessel which is commanded by the Admiral. 

“What’s the status of our cruisers and destroyers, Daeryeong?” Jihoon asks.

“Both our destroyers and one cruiser are heavily damaged. We have one remaining functional cruiser.” Soonyoung reports back.

“There are men who have invaded our ship.” 

“I am aware. Heard they are a unit of special forces. Merciless assassins.” Soonyoung grits through his clenched teeth.  _ “Fucking bastards!  _ That’s what they really are.” Soonyoung spits in rage.

_ “How _ did they board the ship?” Frustration seeps through Jihoon’s voice. Few of the men vacate the station to foresee other operations. 

“More than half of the men were in the main deck and the enemy used the darkness and mist to conceal their dinghy,” Soonyoung informs with a heavy breath. 

In short, they were careless.  _ Incautious. _ Their short need to have a joyous moment may very well be the reason why people will die tonight. Jihoon can’t believe such a big slip up happened under his command. He feels helpless because he knows that by the time aid will arrive from the central fleet, it’ll be  _ too late. _

While Jihoon starts regretting their actions, the ship tumbles violently from the impact of another shot from the enemy and yellow flashes in front of their eyes. Jihoon watches from the window that one of the decks is on fire. 

“Have the fire put out right away!” Soonyoung commands urgently.

When the last person leaves Jihoon and Soonyoung alone in the station, the latter walks over to the door and locks it. Jihoon looks at him with a bewildered expression.

_ “Jihoon.” _ His voice sounds desperate and dispirited, a jarring contrast to the usual joyous tone. “We are going to lose this fight.”

“No! Don’t give me that defeatist attitude. We are going to fight back!” Jihoon argues back, already on his feet to reach Soonyoung and punch some sense into his brain.

“No! I am going to fight back with my men!” Soonyoung counters. Jihoon grows perplexed with the choice of his words.

“What do you mean?”

“I am the Captain and this is my ship. I will go down with her because I made a promise.” A tear flows down Soonyoung’s face. Jihoon feels like someone is squashing his heart. “People like you– people like you  _ need _ to survive, Jihoon.”

“No, Soonyoung. Stop this bullshit. That’s an order.” Jihoon understands what is happening, but he can’t accept it. It’s ridiculous. His rank demands respect and loyalty from people below him. And it’s part of the protocol to have the highest-ranked officer stay alive and well. But Jihoon can’t leave his men behind. He can’t leave Soonyoung behind. He’s the only person closest to a  _ family _ that Jihoon knows of. The realisation comes to him slowly and after that, Jihoon can’t seem to stop his tears from flowing. 

“Jihoon.” Soonyoung closes the distance between them and drags his body towards the back of the room. A trap door is hidden behind a cabinet that leads to the starboard bow where a lifeboat is attached. “Tell my mother and sister that they shouldn’t cry for me. If I die tonight, I will accept death for the love of my family and country.” 

“Soonyoung, the brave fight to the death and the coward run away to write the history of the fallen. You are  _ forcing _ me to be a coward right now.” Jihoon is seething with  _ anger _ and a bit of  _ helplessness. _ Soonyoung finally gets the cabinet out of the way and opens the door while he simultaneously tries to keep Jihoon in place. 

“No, I am forcing you to  _ live _ on my behalf. You need to be the one who defends the last pass, Jungjang.” Jihoon knows he’s lost this discourse, to begin with. Nothing will change Soonyoung’s resolve. 

They both stare at each other with wet eyes and try to convey a silent remembrance of brotherhood and all the years they spent together. The ship trembles from another impact of the enemy’s attack and Soonyoung pushes Jihoon out of the door. 

It’s done. 

There is no going back. He needs to live. 

Jihoon runs stealthily, making sure he does not encounter anyone, whether friend or foe, on his way. One way or another, he reaches the bow and finds it deserted, other than a couple of men who lay dead on the floor, their bodies brutally mauled. It’s a  _ bloodbath. _ These men didn’t die from the cannon shots, but they were  _ killed _ in hand combat. 

He checks to see if anyone is hiding in the shadows. By the time he’s sure that it’s him alone, he makes his way towards the lifeboat and loads the emergency supplies kept near it. 

Jihoon doesn’t understand, but he has this  _ paranoia _ that someone is watching him. Call it his fighting instinct. The hairs at the back of his nape stand, and he gets a shivering feeling down his spine even when it’s a warm night, and he’s wearing his heavy uniform. 

He ignores the feeling and continues loading the boat. 

When he’s finally finished with his task, he hears rustling behind him. A cold breeze of air swipes past his back. Adrenaline rushes to his limbs and makes his body act before his mind can wrap up what is happening.

He ends up deflecting a lethal attack to his neck from an unknown man.

_ Enemy. _

Jihoon’s hand quickly reaches for his gun but the other man kicks his hand while he aims to shoot and the gun flies past the rail into the ocean. 

“Shit!” 

He does not get a moment of reprieve as the enemy is on the offence again. He’s a tall man and Jihoon is starting to realise he is at a significant disadvantage. It’s not that Jihoon isn’t a good fighter, it’s just that the man here seems to be  _ familiar _ with his fighting style. And all of Jihoon’s attacks are predictable to him. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Jihoon demands an answer while he dodges a punch to his gut. The other man still manages to hit him on his face making him stumble back from the force.

_ “A dog. _ Here to kill  _ another dog.” _ The man growls as he charges forward to attack Jihoon again.

It’s a tough duel and Jihoon knows that only one of them will survive the outcome of it. But Jihoon is aggravated, his emotions running in millions of places and this man certainly is not helping cleanse his plate. 

Jihoon kicks the man in his shin and pushes him back. He uses the small window of opportunity to climb inside the boat and untie the ropes as he can’t find a knife. From the corner of his eye, he watches the other man charging at him with a combat knife. 

The next set of events happen in the blink of an eye. Jihoon succeeds in freeing the knots that had tethered the boat to the ship. As the boat starts to free fall, the other man jumps overboard and lands on the boat. They both get into an unstable brawl and Jihoon tries his best to throw the man off the boat. Just when Jihoon manages to push the man backwards, the enemy throws the knife towards Jihoon. 

The man’s head hits a metal container dead-on, and he lets out a wet scream. At the same time, Jihoon registers that the knife has  _ stabbed _ through his clothes into his left arm. And that is when he realises he has multiple wounds over his body and his torso feels extremely sore. As he watches the other man lose consciousness from his head injury, he relaxes a bit and turns around to look at the ship. 

Everything is  _ burning _ down into ashes. The smoke looms over the ship like a foreboding of doom. Violent screams echo into the distance and the sound of gunfire never ceases. Jihoon watches his brothers sink down with the ship and feels like he’s leaving his heart behind. It hurts so bad. He pulls the knife out of his arm and blood oozes out relentlessly. The adrenaline rush fades away and his head feels dizzy. 

His body slides down on the floor as he tears a part of his jacket and wraps it around his upper arm to stop the blood flow. Every movement of his body becomes difficult and his eyes start to get heavy. 

The last thing he witnesses is yellow light flashing before his eyes as he eventually loses consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jungjang: vice-admiral  
> daeryeong: captain


	2. stranded away

Before Jihoon opens his eyes, he hears the soft rumbling of waves and a gentle breeze that blows over his body. The taste of salt overpowers the taste of iron on his tongue. The first thing he sees is the sky bathed in hues of orange, pink and blue. The next thing he notices is that he’s lying on a solid albeit wet ground. Jihoon hasn’t experienced the absence of motion underneath his feet for almost two months. It’s an unusual feeling. He takes a deep, relaxing breath in and sits up.

The sudden jerk movement makes him yowl in pain as his right hand reflexively reaches for his left arm. There is a big gash on his bicep and the skin around the area is swollen and tender to touch. His sleeves are torn which exposes the injury and his arm is comparatively wetter than his body. Jihoon leans down and sniffs his arm for some kind of infection. The smell of ocean water remains prominent. 

He raises his head to gauge his surroundings. It’s a beach from what he can gather and it leads into a dense forest. He turns his head and gasps loudly from seeing the sight in front of him. 

Wherever he has managed to end up has a rocky beach making it impossible for boats to dock here. His lifeboat has crashed into a cluster of rocks and is left in _shambles._ A man is unloading all the supplies from the boat and placing them by the edge of the forest. 

When the man finally turns around to look at Jihoon, he recognizes him as the _man who tried to kill him_ last night. Was it last night? How long was he out? Where are they?

Jihoon tries to move his body but _hisses_ from unbearable pain.

“I wouldn’t move if I were you.” The other man simply comments. He turns around and opens a crate, exploring the contents of the container. He finally grabs a small box and makes his way towards Jihoon. It's a medic kit. 

With the help of sunlight, Jihoon can clearly see the appearance of his enemy. He’s wearing light grey uniform pants with long black boots and a black vest shirt, his overcoat discarded somewhere Jihoon can’t see. There are bruises all over his arms yet his body seems well-built, something expected from a combatant in a war. A mop of midnight black hair covers his forehead messily and his face has few scratches over it. As the sun hits over the man’s face, Jihoon can’t help but _groan_ with bitterness. 

Dark eyes that gleam in the sunlight look apprehensively towards Jihoon. The latter decides to disregard the fact that he’s suffering from throbbing pain and gets up, ready to attack the man with his bare fists. The man’s eyes turn sharp in return, and he drops the box on the beach.

“I wouldn’t fight if I were you.” The man tries to warn Jihoon.

“Yeah? It’s a good thing you’re _not_ me then.” Jihoon lashes out. The temper has started to _boil_ in his veins and the urge to _obliterate_ the man in front of him is strong. “You and I can _never_ be the same.”

Jihoon strides towards him making sure to not limp and show the enemy his weakness. The pain might be _hard to tolerate_ but his hatred for the man is absolutely _intolerable._

He tries to go for a kick to the enemy’s shin but the man steps aside with fluidity and grabs his injured arm. Before Jihoon can aim for a punch to his stomach, the enemy squeezes the area around his stab wound and Jihoon lets out a _blood-curdling_ scream.

“Fuck! Let go!” It’s times like these that Jihoon hates that he is short. The thing is Jihoon is an exceptionally strong man for his build, and he’s a lethal fighter but currently he is injured and beaten down to his bones. Still, his pride won’t allow him to give up and raise the white flag. 

“Listen to me very carefully because I’ll just say this once.” The enemy’s voice is low but raspy. He’s struggling to hold on to Jihoon as well, a clear indication of his battered-up state. “Whether you _like it or not,_ we are stuck together on this uninhabited island. Your main concern right now shouldn’t be about killing me but about surviving on this island and finding a way to get out of here. It’s not ideal but you _have_ to deal with it.” 

First, _confusion_ swims across his mind as he absorbs the words he hears. _Uninhabited island. Survival. Together._ Then he pieces together the words and comes to a very unsettling _conclusion_ that he is stranded away with his adversary. Lastly, he feels stints of _helplessness_ overwhelm his consciousness as he realises their situation. 

There are a million things Jihoon wants to say, wants to do but all of it seems a moot point. Nothing he’ll say or do will _change_ their circumstance magically.

He wordlessly resigns to his fate and loosens the muscles in his body, practically giving up the struggle. The enemy studies him dubiously for a few seconds before he lets go of his arm.

“Not that I particularly care or anything but if your wounds are not treated soon then the flesh will get infected and rot away.” The enemy comments while casting an unnerving glance towards Jihoon’s stab wound. 

Jihoon lets out an exhausted exhalation and looks down at the golden sand below his feet. While his brothers are mercilessly getting _slaughtered_ down by the enemy, he is getting his wounds _treated_ by one. It’s unfair. Jihoon does not deserve it. He ran away from the fight like a rat while the courageous ones were left to defend a burning ship. And now here he stands, on a deserted island with an enemy who is trying to negotiate terms to survive together until they find an escape from this hellhole.

It’s not like Jihoon has any _other choice_ left.

“Treat it,” Jihoon utters his words weakly. The other man turns around to pick up the fallen medkit and makes his way towards Jihoon. 

The sting of the bromine is supposed to be painful but Jihoon’s body feels numb. He can’t feel anything, only emptiness and despair remains inside. His right hand shakes violently. He tries to stop the tremors but his hand has a soul of its own. Has had one for a while. Jihoon has been suffering from the infrequent hand tremors for a few months now. 

The other man wordlessly stitches his stab wound close with a needle and wraps the gauze around his wounds. 

He sees his blood on the enemy’s hands and tells himself that he _allowed_ this to happen. There is nothing he can do about it. 

Jihoon thinks it would’ve been better if he drowned in the ocean.

Once his wounds are treated by the enemy, Jihoon begrudgingly offers to do the same for him. But the man rejects it immediately and tells him to rest for a while.

“By the way, seeing as we are stuck here for a while, for the sake of having crucial communication, my name is Junhui but you can stick to Jun if it's too much for your foreign tongue.” Jihoon hums distractedly, too tired to even register the insult.

“Jihoon.”

After that, they barely exchange any words throughout the day. Junhui sets up their base a little further into the forest making sure to keep their sleeping bags several feet apart while Jihoon lists their supplies and sets them up far away from the waters. The supply is meant for a single person for 14 days. Junhui says they’ll ration it in such a way that it at least lasts them both for 21 days.

When the night comes, they both fill their stomachs with a single piece of bun and retire for the night. Jihoon doesn’t think much. His body mostly works on instinct. And as soon as his head hits the hard, sandy ground, he drifts to dreamless slumber, exhaustion finally taking a heavy toll on his body.

  
  


~•~

  
  


When Jihoon opens his eyes, the sky is barely coloured in by sunlight and it takes a while to get used to partial darkness. He sits up and moves his limbs to gauge the pain and fortunately, the ache seems to be bearable now, just like a mild buzz in the background which he can ignore. Once he’s more aware of his surroundings, he finds that Junhui is missing from the base. 

Jihoon decides to walk towards the beach and watch the sunrise. He might as well enjoy the beautiful wonders of _mother nature_ while he’s stuck on this island for an indefinite amount of time.

The tides are high, almost reaching the edge of the forest and the gentle spray of saltwater over his body is soothing. He finds Junhui sitting on the shore further away from him. The other man looks at the ocean with a sombre expression paying no heed to his vicinity. 

Jihoon may have a lot of reservation with accepting his current fate but one thing that he is certain of is that _his enemy or not,_ Junhui has seen similar kinds of horror (if not worse) as Jihoon. They both have been affected by the _great tragedies_ of carnage and this _paradise-like_ respite feels like a grand mockery to their existence. 

Jihoon can frigidly form an alliance with Junhui, but he still isn't keen on forming a relationship with him that is as thick as thieves. So he doesn’t join Junhui and chooses to watch the glorious sunrise in solitude.

In the afternoon, after setting up fire to heat water (Junhui had informed him earlier that there was a freshwater spring a few meters away from their base and it's the only thing that can be considered _‘lucky’_ about their situation), they both sit across each other. 

There is a question that has been running in the back of Jihoon’s mind and his curiosity bubbles like a washing powder inside him mostly because Junhui’s grasp over the Korean language is _commendable._

“Your Korean is good. Why?” Junhui looks at him with humourless eyes for a few seconds until something faint sparkles in them.

“Because I studied it.” Junhui deadpans. Jihoon scoffs.

“Yeah, I get that, asshole. But why?”

“The answer is pretty simple, _Jungjang.”_ Junhui has a sneer pulling across his lips. 

“How the fuck do you know my rank?” Jihoon raises his voice, clearly not amused by the fact that Junhui knows more than he previously gauged. The latter remains unfazed, calmly digging the ground with a twig.

“Well, I understand that a high-ranking commissioned officer like you is used to having men follow your orders and display their undying loyalty to you. Daeryeong Kwon seemed like a valiant Captain and sacrificed his life for you out of fidelity.” Jihoon clenches his fist, trying to rein in the anger. Talking about Soonyoung is a _low blow_ that rubs at an internal open wound that is still very fresh. “But on this island, you and I are not represented by the badges on our coats. We both are to treat each other as _equals._ If you’ll demand an answer from me, I will simply ignore you. But if you choose to talk like a civilized man, I will entertain you.”

Jihoon glares at him but understands his point. If they are going to live as outlaws, they will have to let go off their past affiliations. 

“Fine.”

“I knew you were a reasonable man.” Junhui gives a bashful grin in return. Jihoon wants to break his teeth.

“Well, to answer your first question, it is said that to defeat your enemy, you need to know them and speak and think like them. I’m the part of the special force that specialises in intelligence and operations which means I gather and analyse the intelligence of your military. I’ve been studying your profile for a while and I have to say that you’re an exceptional warrior. No wonder you were awarded all those accolades at such a young age.” Jihoon doesn’t understand if he should take his words as a compliment or some sort of disguised insult.

Junhui continues speaking, “While you were saying your parting words to Daeryeong Kwon in the commanding station alone, I was eavesdropping the whole conversation as I stood outside the door. That’s how I was able to follow you to the back of the ship. Do you see the significance of speaking your adversary’s language now?” 

“If you hadn’t followed me and meddled in my business, we both wouldn’t be stuck here. So I clearly _don’t_ see the significance.” Jihoon jeers. 

“Everyone is entitled to their own perception.” Junhui simply shrugs. Jihoon decides he’s had enough of the introductory conversation, seeing as Junhui already knows about him. He stops speaking and remains silent while they slowly eat their rice and meat. 

Both the men mostly keep to themselves and don’t interfere in each other’s affairs. When the night falls and it’s time to sleep, Jihoon’s eyes are wide open. He tosses and turns frantically but his heart doesn’t seem to calm down. The _only reason_ he was able to sleep the previous night was that his body was exhausted, and he was too tired to register his condition. But now, he’s painfully aware of the fact that he is sleeping with the enemy only a few feet away from him.

The _paranoia_ of Junhui killing him in his sleep consumes him. It would be such an easy kill, Jihoon thinks. A _pitiful death_ but at the same time a _convenient kill._

“Can’t sleep, huh?” He hears Junhui’s voice. Jihoon lets out a grunt to confirm. 

“I couldn’t even sleep last night.” Junhui continues. “I had this feeling that you will wake up from your sleep and kill me in cold blood. Guess the fear still hasn’t dissipated.”

“Well, this isn’t going to work.” Jihoon comments.

“I am aware, _Jihoon.”_ The utterance of his name from Junhui’s mouth makes him wince. It’s not a pleasant feeling. People rarely ever call him by his name, always choosing to address him by his rank.

Jihoon sits up and looks at Junhui. Under the starry sky with the crescent moon, the latter’s appearance looks dark and muted. Junhui’s body is already turned towards him, and he stares at Jihoon with an unreadable expression.

“How about we agree to call a truce for as long as we are stuck on this island?” Jihoon negotiates a deal. _A peace offering._ “Killing a sleeping person is not even an honourable kill.”

Junhui guffaws at Jihoon’s comment. For the first time ever, Jihoon realises, they are having a light conversation sans hostility. Maybe there is something in the night air that has _softened_ their animosity towards each other. 

“You are right. It would be inhumane to kill someone in their sleep.” Junhui agrees. “I can do with peace for a while.”

“I guess this means that we can sleep without any worry?” Jihoon asks one last time just to be sure. Junhui turns his body away and adjusts his posture.

“I hope so. Now if you don’t mind, I haven’t slept for three days and would really appreciate some sleep right about now.” Jihoon lies down and mirrors Junhui’s sleeping position. 

“Sure.”

Once the paranoia goes away, sleep comes easily.

  
  


~•~

  
  


It’s been two days since they arrived at the island and Jihoon finally thinks he’s healthy enough to explore the island on his own. Junhui wasn’t lying when he said that the land is barely 8 square kilometres in area. It takes approximately an hour to walk around the island’s perimeter. Calling the little water body that is located in the middle of the thick forest as freshwater spring is basically _glamourising_ the part of the earth that is in front of his eyes. It has moss growing all around it and the vegetation grows wildly in the area. 

Jihoon realises that civilisation can drastically alter the vista of an area. 

The island only seems to host a stopover for migrating birds and home for small amphibians. He has shivers running up his spine as the thought of resorting to eating them in future crosses his mind. 

When a person is left alone without any work occupying their mind, a lot of existential thoughts plague their mind. Jihoon starts to wonder what the hell is he doing? His mind starts to wander naturally, and he cross-examines all the actions that have led him to the island. In the end, nothing supposedly makes sense. All he knows is that somehow he has ended up sharing a living environment with the man he was taught to hate. 

The thought of his brothers in arms makes him want to curl up on himself and cry. He has no information about what’s happening in the world outside this island. Was his military able to defend the post? Was his fleet destroyed as he had anticipated? Is Soonyoung still alive and breathing? Is the war still going on?

_Hundreds of questions. Zero answers._

He finally manages to walk back to the base absent-mindedly. Junhui is busy preparing lunch. They had agreed to use raw meat and vegetables first before it goes bad. Jihoon mentally prepares himself to eat the wild fauna of the island. 

“You’re back? Right on time. Here, I prepared food for us.” Junhui says with a lightness in his voice. It’s not that he is grinning widely and shining brighter than the sun but something about the faint traces of _merriment_ on his face irks Jihoon. Jihoon has a lot of pent-up rage inside that he hasn’t been able to express. And just like a volcano, it decides to _erupt_ at the most unexpected time.

“There is no need for you to do that! I am perfectly capable of feeding myself.” Jihoon spits with rage. He wants to kick Junhui away and keep punching him till bruises bloom over his golden skin. The skin that seems to have too many freckles splattered over it. They somehow momentarily _bewitch_ Jihoon and make him want to look at them. Jihoon is probably going insane fantasising about _absurd desires._ “Don’t forget that _we are enemies_ who almost killed each other a few days ago. Nothing can change that fact. I don’t want _anything_ from you, Jun. Just leave me alone!” 

A long-drawn silence follows Jihoon’s unprecedented outburst. Junhui stares at him with a blank face, trying to read the atmosphere. Jihoon feels like a heavy weight is finally off his chest, and he breathes a bit better. The other man lets out a long exhale and then stands on his feet. He quickly gobbles his remaining food and grabs his water bottle. Then without a single word, he walks away from the base. 

When Junhui is finally out of his sight, Jihoon lets his body flop on the ground. That little fit of fury seems to have drained all the energy out of his body. But as the rage clears up inside his head, some unnerving thoughts flit into his mind. He feels _guilt_ crawl up his head for some ridiculous reason. 

Did he really step over some unspoken boundary?

He assures himself that it's better this way. At least they aren’t killing each other for all that matters.

Junhui eventually comes back to the base as the sun goes down. He mostly stays to himself and barely casts a glance towards Jihoon. Without exchanging a single word, both the men retire for the night.

  
  


~•~

  
  


The next day, they ignore and refuse to acknowledge each other’s presence. Jihoon clears up the wild flora from around the base using a tactical knife. Junhui chops off some trees using an axe. Jihoon mentally gives credit to the person who thought of placing an axe in military emergency supplies. 

They mind their own tasks not because they _want_ to but because they _have_ to and barely interact. They only speak a few words when it’s time to change their shifts on the watch to keep a lookout for a boat or ship out in the ocean. They even eat food at separate times.

Just like the previous night, they sleep when the day ends. The ridiculous guilt inside Jihoon’s stomach _grows._

  
  


~•~

  
  


Jihoon has harshly come to accept his fate. As preposterous as his circumstance may be, it is the harsh truth. He can curse all his past actions and hypothesize a different outcome all he wants but _nothing_ will change the present. The island is real, the fact that he is stranded away is real and Junhui is _100% real_ to his great misfortunes.

The bomb (his anger from refusing his situation) has detonated, and he has shown outrage over it. He has no lingering resentment left and has started to adapt to his surroundings. He might as well because the ocean seems vast and barren, devoid of any life. Jihoon has watched the endless horizon for three days, and he has grown sick of it. The clear blue ocean with a pleasant breeze and soothing sounds of waves crashing provides him with no respite.

Nonetheless, Jihoon reminds himself that he is human and it is natural to feel this way. His temper may seem childish but it is not a normal thing to get stranded away with a person you were meant to kill. Although, getting stranded on an island alone seems like a worse scenario. At least knowing that someone else is going through the same quandary as him is a little _reassuring._

Just like previous days, they don’t interact with each other. In the afternoon, Jihoon returns from his watch and wordlessly motions Junhui to take his place. Jihoon walks over to the crate that has food stored in it and realises it has stayed untouched since the last time he left it in the morning.

“You didn’t eat?” His voice comes out _raw_ from the cessation of his vocal cords.

“I’m not hungry.” Junhui’s voice sounds rough as well. They truly _only_ have each other on this island. What else would they use their voice for if not for speaking? Jihoon coughs to open his throat.

“You should eat.”

“I told you, I’m not hungry.” Junhui sticks to his word while grabbing his makeshift bundle bag. Jihoon knows he should drop the conversation but call it a habit. He never likes it when people skip their meals. If Junhui chooses to be headstrong then Jihoon can be even _worse_ in his obstinate ways. 

“Just eat the damn foo–”

“Why do you _care_ if I eat or not?” Junhui interrupts him and asks in a harsh tone. Jihoon doesn’t care. _Fucking hell_ he does not care if Junhui starves to death or not. But now it all seems like a _matter of pride._ He can’t back down easily. 

Junhui closes the distance between them with fury dancing in his eyes. Jihoon raises his chin to stare him right back in his face. He can feel the metaphorical sparks flying around them. A _single spark_ is all you really need to start a wildfire.

“I know the idyllic location can corrupt how your brain perceives this _fucked up_ situation but let me remind you that this is not a _fucking holiday_ we stumbled upon. We don’t know how long we are going to be stuck on this island. The ration is limited. Your main concern should be conserving the food rather than exhausting them quickly.” Junhui calms himself and practices a couple of breathing exercises.

“I would much rather die in combat than be forced to starve myself to death, Jihoon. For now, I can easily live without eating food for a day. It’s not like I need the energy, _do I?”_ Junhui casts a suspicious glance towards him. Jihoon gulps. 

As much as he wants to argue back, Junhui’s words make absolute sense. Jihoon is so used to living a disciplined military life that it somehow slipped his mind that they are living an unprecedented life. His appetite seems to vanish as well as the realisation sets in. They need to be smart about their supply usage. And more than anything, they need to _work together_ to survive. 

“I hate this as much as you do, Jihoon. But it would be for the best, especially for your mental state, if you set aside our differences and accept this without reminding yourself again and again that _I_ am the enemy.” And after dropping the dreadful advice, Junhui walks away to start his watch. 

Jihoon’s mind goes numb. Instead of thinking about anything, he just stares at the ocean through the canopy of trees. _Mindlessly. Dismally. Impotently._

  
  


~•~

  
  


“I understand that I owe you an apology for how I lashed out on you unreasonably a few days back,” Jihoon says while metaphorically placing a rock on his heart. 

After their little squabble that took place the previous day, Jihoon unravelled Junhui’s words meticulously. Today marks the sixth day since they have been stranded away, and they still haven’t found any hope that life after this island exists for them. 

He is a patriotic man and will die for his country without any second thought. And he will also destroy anyone that tries to bring harm to his motherland without hesitation. But he is far away from his country and practically an outlaw at this point. No tradition, rationality and virtue exist on this island. It’s like all his beliefs have been frozen for the time being, and he is meant to embrace an immoral notion to survive — _accepting Junhui as his ally._

Once the thought really set in his mind, he was able to shed aside his own origin and dislikes. Jihoon thinks they don’t have to be the chummiest of buddies, but they can be civil, and he can at least _try_ to get along with the other. 

Although to do that, he needs to apologise for a slight problem that has manifested between them. So here he is, on a cloudy late morning, trying to extend a hand of congeniality.

Junhui looks at him warily, trying to scrutinize his appearance with knitted brows. Jihoon exhales a deep breath.

“I’m being sincere. You are right. Fighting with each other won’t solve our problems. Or at least _our leaders’_ problems.” Jihoon adds the last sentence as an afterthought while shrugging. “I am sorry, okay? For everything that happened on this island. Nothing more.” 

The crease around Junhui’s eyebrows soften down, and he looks at him with a blank expression. Jihoon likes to call it _‘Junhui’s calm face’._

“Let bygones be bygones.” And just like that, Junhui forgives him easily. Too damn easily. It somehow irritates Jihoon. Maybe he wanted the other to throw some tantrum. It would’ve given Jihoon the _perfect excuse_ to punch him in the face.

“I mean, I am kind of the only one who can _understand_ how you feel, Jihoon. It’s hard for me to come to terms with our situation as well.” Junhui continues as he leans against the bark of a tree and slides down. “But it is what it is.”

Jihoon sits on his haunches as well and just reflects his life in general. He is glad that when his life decided to punish him for his past sins, it at least gave him a beautiful view to admire. _Silver linings._

Junhui continues speaking after a while, “In a way, I am mildly glad that I have you stuck on this island with me. Even if you were meant to be the man I was tasked to kill.” He has a twisted smile on his face. “I would’ve gone insane if I were alone on this island and probably _killed myself_ to escape the pain and solitary,” Junhui admits an appalling confession. 

Jihoon does not say a word. Any word he speaks will just be worthless and do nothing to mitigate the morose surrounding them. 

He just silently agrees to every word Junhui says. Because in the end, he believes he would’ve _done the same._

  
  


~•~

  
  


Things become easier after they work out their differences. Although they don’t instantly start having a normal conversation with each other which Jihoon thinks is perfectly normal. The best outcome is that they work harmoniously to improve their living conditions the next day. Junhui builds a sturdier base for them while Jihoon forages leaves and wild berries that won’t kill them. It’s easy. _Uncomplicated._

“You wanna know how I came to join the military?” Junhui asks out of the blue after they both are done with their dinner and sit on their respective sides of the base across the campfire.

“Humour me,” Jihoon replies. It will be refreshing to hear a tale of a life he’s never heard of before. He’ll just pretend that he’s listening to a bedtime story. 

“To begin with, I never wanted any of this. I didn’t want to become a _pawn_ in the game of foreign policies.” Junhui sighs deeply. “When I was 16 years old and the tension in the world was just beginning to rise, I couldn’t care less about it. All I cared about was my undefeatable mahjong skills and never-ending hunger for delicious food. But one day, as I was walking the streets of my village nonchalantly, an Envoy from the military came with some words to spread across the village. Apparently, the country was looking for young men above 16 years to draft themselves to the army and start their training for an inevitable war.” Junhui's face looks distant, devoid of any innocence. 

“And then the word on the street spread that you were a man without balls if you didn’t join. I was young and foolish but most of all, I was _too proud_ for my own good. The word got to me. And I left my peaceful village to become a killing machine.” Junhui ends his recount and Jihoon notices his eyes are wet. Unlike Junhui, Jihoon _willingly_ joined the military so it's not like he can sympathise with the man on a large scale.

Jihoon had tried to figure out Junhui’s rank by studying the insignia on his overcoat but the foreign words and symbols didn’t help him much.

“What rank are you supposed to be?” Jihoon asks. A smirk pulls on the other man’s face. 

“You’ve been curious about it for a while, right?” Junhui counters. He doesn’t reply and just stares at him.

“Well, I am addressed as Yideng Shiguanzhang that basically translates to First Class Master Sergeant.” 

“You really are a specialist,” Jihoon observes.

“I have always _hated_ the ranking system. Even if I become the most lethal person ever, in the end, it doesn’t matter because I’ll always be answerable to my seniors. And in turn, they will be answerable to _pig heads_ who think terrorising the world is a good solution to maintain structure and rule.” Jihoon chuckles over Junhui’s crass way of addressing the leaders. But as a fellow serviceman fighting someone else’s war, he easily accepts the latter’s opinion.

“Well, what else would you have done if you weren’t forced to fight this war?” Jihoon starts to lie down on the piece of cloth that he now calls his bed. Junhui proceeds to extinguish the campfire and readies himself for bed as well.

After both of them have settled down and only the distant sound of ocean waves remain, Junhui finally whispers.

“I always wanted to open a noodle shop.”

  
  


~•~

  
  


A week has passed and not a single sign of rescue has been witnessed by either of the two men. They are finished with almost constructing their base. There is nothing else to do here. Getting stranded away could be very boring, in Jihoon’s opinion. 

Jihoon’s wounds have recovered considerably well, and he can now easily move his left arm without much discomfort. He still avoids the heavy-duty work but it isn’t as bad as it was a week before. Even in a hopeless place, Jihoon wants to look at the brighter side of things to keep his mind sane.

After taking the last watch and staying on the beach until the ocean swallowed the sun, Jihoon returns to the base. He is greeted by the sight of Junhui inspecting one of the smaller crates. Jihoon iterates through his memory to figure out the contents of the crate. When the answer clicks in his brain, he freezes. 

_Firearms._

It’s at this moment that Jihoon knows he has fucked up by trusting the enemy. Junhui must have been plotting to kill him in the guise of amity all along. Before Junhui can secretly devise his malicious plans further, he charges towards him without any concrete motive. 

Junhui turns around after hearing Jihoon’s battle cry. For a split second, his face is painted with confusion. When Jihoon is barely 6 feet away from him, the fighting instincts activate, and he dodges Jihoon’s fist to his gut. Junhui runs away from the base towards the beach because the place is compact and it would be stupid to destroy the place they worked so hard for. Jihoon automatically follows him. 

Out on the beach, there is more space and the place is lit by the waxing moon. Jihoon and Junhui fight but it is not their best duel. In fact, Jihoon knows that both of them aren’t even putting their all in the fight. They mostly stick to default defence and try to attack only if they see an opening. It is a fight but it might as well be the _most pathetic fight_ of his life. The few punches he receives manage to leave behind a dull pain. Jihoon’s senses are too muted to register the ache, although he does taste the blood in his mouth, the taste of iron overpowering the salt. One way or another, Junhui gets the upper hand and instead of inflicting damage on Jihoon, he pushes Jihoon on the ground and disarms him by using his own body. The latter finds himself trapped underneath Junhui’s body weight, his arms restricted by an iron grip around his wrists.

Jihoon is painfully reminded that Junhui is a trained assassin. _A specialist._

The mano a mano defuses as soon as Jihoon stops fighting back. Although now, the distance between them just feels plain weird. 

They are so close that Junhui’s laboured breaths fans Jihoon’s face and in turn, the other man’s eyelashes flutter due to Jihoon’s breath. It’s dark but Jihoon can see clearly. Way too clearly in the hues of silver and pearls. The sharp slope of Junhui’s nose, the lips that are shaved in that seem to always be highlighted by two moles on top of them, the soft and dark eyes that usually stay sharp like a feline’s. _Fuck,_ they are too close and Jihoon’s mind is getting filled with strange thoughts that he has never experienced before. He needs to create some distance as soon as possible. 

They manage to find some distance and sit on the sandy ground. 

“Whatever the fuck happened to our truce? Can I at least know the reason behind this blatant attack?” Junhui asks. 

“You were looking at the firearms.”

“Yeah, _so?”_ Junhui still has a quizzical expression on his face.

“I thought you were planning to kill me.” Jihoon simply confesses while looking at his battered knuckles. 

“I wasn’t.” He gets a small whisper in return. Junhui takes a deep breath in. “God, Jihoon! Did it ever cross your mind that I could be bored and was just finding ways to keep myself occupied by looking at something that I am familiar with?” Junhui raises his voice by the end. It didn’t cross Jihoon’s mind. But as the fear of getting killed by Junhui washes away, his reason makes so much sense. 

Jihoon has to agree that living on this island is severely boring. They are only humans making the most out of what they have. 

“I’m sorry for hitting you too hard. I probably let my rage get the best of me.” Junhui apologises as he leaves Jihoon to walk back to the base. His voice is steady and assures Jihoon that the other man is being sincere. 

Junhui returns after a minute with the medkit. Jihoon’s lips pull into a wry smile. Is this what they have come to? Jihoon injures himself and Junhui treats his wounds?

“I’m also sorry for perceiving the situation incorrectly.” Jihoon apologises as well as Junhui cleans the wound around his knuckles and wraps a gauze.

“It’s alright. We are enemies first and our situation will not change the hatred inculcated in our brains so easily.” Junhui resigns with a defeated spirit. 

“I know how you feel,” Jihoon replies. Junhui finishes up and packs the remaining supplies. Then he looks at Jihoon with eyes that seem to scream a thousand words of a feeling Jihoon _isn’t_ familiar with. He can’t decipher anything. 

Junhui gingerly raises his hand and tenderly swipes the small cut on Jihoon’s cheek. This small action makes Jihoon’s eyes go wide. He literally feels something _move_ inside his stomach but the foreign feeling leaves him perplexed. He understands nothing. All he knows is Junhui’s touch on his cheek _lingers_ even after the taller retrieves his hand. 

“I don’t think you do.” 

  
  


~•~

  
  


Jihoon’s heart feels lighter the next day. Except for the little hiccup that happened the previous night, his relationship with Junhui isn’t terrible for the time being. Although they still don’t know how to talk about anything that isn’t tragic, political or revolutionary in its essence. 

“What kind of person were you before coming to this island?” Jihoon asks over their dinner. He might as well get to know the person he spends all his time with. 

“Deadly,” Junhui answers with a smug grin. Jihoon clearly is not impressed and just glares at him but there is no bite to his scowl.

“I was jovial and loved to joke around with my comrades. They all had a hard time believing that I was the same person on and off the field.” Junhui recalls with a smile on his lips and sorrow in his eyes.

“Didn’t you have someone really close who would understand you completely?” 

_“I do.”_ Junhui corrects his usage of past tense. “But I usually like to solve my own problems and be alone when I’m going through hard times,” Jihoon remembers after their fight a few nights ago, Junhui just vanished from his sight. 

“What about you? Are you always in a bad temper?” Junhui asks in a playful tone. 

“I don’t have temper issues.” Jihoon quickly defends himself. The other simply shrugs and eats his soup. “I could be a fun person to be around. Although since my promotion, the workload has just increased and most of my men stay wary of me. I usually stay by myself as well.” Jihoon confesses with a weak stature. 

Jihoon always knew he lived a solitary life. It didn’t bother him much because work always helped occupy his mind. But now that he has all the time in the world to ponder and talk to another being without any obligations or titles bringing in the formalities, he can’t help but realise that he isn’t just alone in this big world. He’s also lonely and possibly deprived of a basic human need. _Touch starved._

“Do you want to have people around you?” Junhui asks with his mouth stuffed with food. Jihoon wants to be disgusted by it, but he just doesn’t care. Who is he to judge the other anyway?

“Who wants to be alone, Jun?” Jihoon moves away from the base to clean his dishes.

“I do!” Junhui replies while making sure to keep his voice loud. “Then what is stopping you from making friends?”

Jihoon comes back and sits away from the campfire. It’s a hot night, and he’s already in his inner shirt and pants. He can’t discard more clothes in lieu of maintaining decency around Junhui. 

“I don’t know,” Jihoon replies hesitantly. It’s not like he doesn’t know what his problem is. It’s just that he can’t find words to express what is wrong with him. Even when he is the one out of the two who is speaking in his native language.

“Could you have trust issues?” Junhui stands up to clear up his utensils and their base. 

“I trust my men with all that I have got.” Jihoon defends himself quickly. Junhui takes his sweet time in tidying up the place to the best of his abilities. He finally comes back and starts putting out the fire. They don’t need it anyway and the heat from the fire is making the temperature unbearable.

“No, I know you trust your comrades with your life. With your body.” Junhui agrees easily. His agreement just confuses Jihoon more. “But do you trust anyone with your _inner demons?”_

_Oh._ All the pain that Jihoon has hidden deep inside the valves of his heart tries to pump out and surface to his face. He pushes them back in. No one has ever seen his vulnerable side. And he sure as hell can’t let Junhui see it for the first time. 

If he doesn’t acknowledge the suffering then it won’t bother him, and he can live easily. He has always lived by this motto, and he isn’t going to give up his belief in the stillness of a warm night.

“I thought servicemen were not supposed to have any feelings,” Jihoon says humorously to conceal the profoundness of that sentence. He’s heard those words one too many times.

“Do you think you are empty from the inside? Emotionless?” 

Jihoon takes a few deep breaths and tries to relax his mind, body and soul. It’s easy to trick the body. Military training helped him with that. The mind can be difficult sometimes but with enough persistence, it finally believes what you want it to believe. But the soul is a free spirit that can never be tamed. It carries the pain and happiness of an individual and never lets them die. Those feelings are immortal inside a person’s soul. _‘The treacherous bastard’,_ Jihoon likes to call it. Never complying with the rest of his corporeal being. 

“I think it's easier to _pretend_ that I am.” 

  
  


~•~

  
  


Junhui’s words keep Jihoon’s mind occupied even on the next day. It irks him to even think that Junhui might perceive him as a friendless human. The man already has a strong bias against power hierarchy and rule-abiding systems which means that Jihoon has already lost a lot of favourable points from him. What annoys him the most is that in some twisted way, he _cares_ how Junhui sees him. He shouldn’t, he clearly shouldn’t but their developing affinity has started to mess with Jihoon’s brain. 

So he decides that he should clear out some negative air surrounding him.

“Do you wanna know why I joined the military?”

Apparently, it’s become their _thing_ to open up a little and reveal things about themselves after dinnertime. They are usually preoccupied throughout the day, taking their respective watches and exploring the island. It’s usually at night when the darkness renders them motionless that they find time to stay put together and talk. 

Today, Junhui tried to familiarise himself with some hunting techniques using the weapons they have. He justified it by saying that he is only preparing himself for the inevitable. Jihoon isn’t looking forward to eating reptiles in the future. It’s a mad idea, but then he thinks that they _need_ a bit of madness inside them that will take their life to crazy extents _necessary_ for survival.

“Sure. Let’s see how good you are at weaving a story.” Junhui replies as he settles on his makeshift bed and leans back on his elbow to look at Jihoon. Something glimmers in Junhui’s eyes. It momentarily _paralyses_ Jihoon’s senses, and he _wants_ to uncover the depth behind them, but he shakes away his thoughts when he realises how _preposterous_ his chain of thoughts really are.

“I am an orphan.” The humour on Junhui’s face is instantly replaced by soberness. 

“I regret your loss.”

“Don’t. I stopped regretting it a long time ago. I lost my last blood relative when I was 14, so I am desensitised by the feeling of loss by now. People live. People die. It’s the ultimate truth of life.” Jihoon replies in a cold tone. After all, how can he still feel miserable over something that happened over a decade ago?

“If you have nobody in your life, then who are you fighting this war for?”

“Let me finish my story first.” Jihoon shoots him a critical glare. Junhui shrugs apologetically. 

“Anyway, all the wise men, who loved to impart lessons that they never followed, told me to dedicate my life to the nation as I had nobody else to live for. So to answer your question, I am fighting this war for the love of my motherland.” 

The conversation lulls after Jihoon’s statement. There isn’t much Junhui can say here. Jihoon looks over the dark ocean without focusing on anything in particular. It has always been a known fact that Jungjang Lee Jihoon is an orphan and has no next of kin. He never had to explicitly state this fact to a living person in recent times. But as he peels a little bit of himself to explain his situation, he feels the _whole layer_ coming off of him.

“This life of being a serviceman is all I know, Jun. I– I genuinely don’t know what I’ll do once the war ends and I still manage to stay alive by then. You want to know why I follow orders and commit slaughter? Because it’s the only time I feel like I have a _purpose_ in life. Without my uniform and insignias, I feel like I have no reason to live. I feel absolutely _worthless.”_

The confession stays heavy between them like a dead man’s weight. Once the realisation of who is in front of him hits Jihoon, he feels terribly exposed. All the air around him starts to feel like toxic gas, and he thinks he might be hyperventilating. Jihoon lowers his chin and looks at the ground. The sand has started to get firm as their habitation prolongs day by day. He watches a few droplets fall down and observes how the ground absorbs it slowly.

The first thought that comes to his mind is that it’s probably going to rain. They should probably build a temporary shelter. It isn’t until Junhui weakly calls his name and Jihoon raises his head that he senses the tear rolling down his cheek. 

It isn’t raining. It’s his tears.

Jihoon hasn’t shed tears in years. He had always thought that he had used up the last of his tears 6-7 years ago. This isn’t how he is supposed to be. Jungjang Lee _never_ cries, and he always remains stoic and reserved. Emotions compromise a warrior’s rationality and a weak-hearted person can’t lead hundreds of men in a war zone. 

But the person crying right now isn’t Jungjang Lee. He’s just _Jihoon_ — a teenage boy who lost everything he held dear to. The tears keep falling relentlessly and Jihoon cries and cries, years of repressed feelings _finally_ finding an outlet. 

He loses track of time and space and only comes back once he feels a heavy weight over his shoulders. It's _warm_ and _grounding._ Jihoon opens his eyes to see Junhui kneeling in front of him and looking at him with compassionate eyes. His expression is raw and rubs weirdly at a forgotten spot inside Jihoon’s chest. His body is half-lit by the campfire, washed in shades of orange. 

For the first time ever, Jihoon finds the presence of Junhui comforting. _Hopeful. Gratifying._

Jihoon feels a rush of million emotions flooding his being. He wants to laugh, cry, scream and hate himself all at the same time. He decides to _relinquish_ all the social stigma that supposedly surrounds Junhui’s existence according to the dogma set by his leaders. Because for the first time ever, the person who is listening to his troubles and comforting him is his intended enemy rather than a person he’s familiar with. 

Instead of fighting and pushing Junhui away like usual, Jihoon cries under his _warm refuge_ and lets another person witness his weakness in the tranquillity of darkness.

  
  


~•~

  
  


Junhui is pleasantly surprised to see that Jihoon isn’t ignoring him the next day. Jihoon is befuddled by his statement and the latter clarifies that according to his observation, whenever Jihoon opens himself a little, he takes up some space as a means to recuperate from _too much_ human interaction. Jihoon mocks him for being an idiot, and they both laugh about it easily.

Maybe Jihoon can admit that a friendship might be blossoming between the two. It’s easier to accept reality than to deny everything that is happening. 

“Do you have a woman back home?” Jihoon asks out of the blue while they have their dinner. Funnily enough, Junhui _chokes_ on his rice and coughs violently to clear his trachea. 

Once he calms himself, he glares at Jihoon for almost choking him to death. They both stare at each other challengingly for mere seconds until they both break their character and laugh without any restraint.

“No. I only have a mother and a brother who is part of a different infantry.” Junhui replies while grabbing his bowl again to continue his dinner. Jihoon hums back indignantly and resumes his own dinner. 

“I’ve never been with a woman before,” Jihoon confesses out of the blue again. This time though, Junhui is better prepared and doesn’t lose his composure. He just nods to show that he has acknowledged Jihoon’s statement. 

“Does that mean you haven’t ever _kissed_ someone before?” Junhui asks carefully. Jihoon hears the question and processes it. It feels like the other is mocking him somehow for preserving his chastity. He isn’t necessarily angry, but he is surely pissed about it. 

Instead of saying anything back, Jihoon decides to ignore him.

Junhui catches on to Jihoon’s behaviour quickly and apologises. But the latter isn’t in a very forgiving mood. He goes to sleep while still refusing to talk to Junhui. 

  
  


~•~

  
  


New dawn makes him realise that maybe his reaction to a simple question was a bit _immature._ So Jihoon negotiates peace. Junhui has a small, mischievous smile on his face the whole time Jihoon talks to him, but he doesn’t say a word and Jihoon finds it acceptable enough.

Close to dusk, instead of waiting for Junhui to come back from his watch, Jihoon decides to join him and bask in the luxury of admiring the sunset. They sit side by side and let the gentle rumbling of the waves fill the surrounding silence.

“You know, I was thinking something.” Junhui starts to speak while still looking at the dying sun.

“What?”

“I don’t know if we’ll make it out of this island or not.” It’s a dreadful thought with a deep-rooted depth. Uncertainty surrounds their existence every day. It’s been 12 days since they’ve been stranded away. The only reason why Jihoon _knows_ this is because he has been carving the number of days on a huge stone near their base. 

“And this is the reason why I want to strike a deal with you.” Jihoon whips his head around to look at Junhui with a bewildered face. What the hell is this man talking about?

_“Deal?”_

“Yeah.” Junhui shrugs nonchalantly.

“Do you care to expand on it?”

“I know you didn’t clearly state it but I understood it anyway.” Jihoon has a premonition that Junhui is about to say something _really_ stupid. “I want you to know how a kiss feels like _so,”_ He prolongs the vowel in the last word. “I am willing to volunteer.”

Jihoon didn’t know that Junhui could be such an obnoxious, pompous and ridiculous man. Suddenly all the urge to kill him comes back to him in waves, and he shifts his body to attack him and probably beat some sense into him. 

“Wait! _Wait!_ Before you get violent as usual, hear me out!” Junhui defends himself as he slithers back on his ass. 

“Are you going to _justify_ your preposterous proposition?” Jihoon barks scornfully. 

“Yes! Jihoon, it's just the two of us on this island and there is literally nobody here to judge. There is nothing to lose here!” Junhui explains animatedly. 

Jihoon thinks there are quite a few things to lose here. His _dignity_ for starters, a little bit of _decency_ and most of his _sanity._

“Besides, kissing makes a person feel _so good._ It’s such an exalted experience.” Junhui continues. “But you wouldn’t know because you’ve _never_ kissed someone before.”

It’s a dirty, little taunt, Jihoon knows that. But apparently, Junhui has _expertise_ in crawling under Jihoon’s skin and making him lose all sense of rationale. Rather than ignoring or beating Junhui for provoking him like he usually does, he wants to be the one who has the last laugh. He wants to wipe that smug expression off Junhui’s face and make him eat his own words.

How dare he make fun of Jihoon anyway? _Fuck him!_

Jihoon sews the distance between them and crawls over Junhui’s lap. The latter, for all his snarky confidence from earlier, looks mildly shocked with wide eyes and parted lips but doesn’t resist. He stays frozen and lets Jihoon settle over him. Like he is _finally_ making a place for himself. If Jihoon’s mind wasn’t possessed with the sole purpose of proving Junhui wrong, he would notice the fierce _hammering_ in his chest. He would feel something _obstructing_ his breathing, only to realise that it’s him who is holding his breath. 

Jihoon doesn’t stall the process and leans in. Junhui eagerly meets him halfway. The shorter man presses his lips against the other too hard at first, registering the mild pang from it. But Junhui manages to cushion the rough blow by slightly moving his lips and enveloping Jihoon’s top lip between his. 

A feeling _bursts_ inside Jihoon that he can’t describe in proper words. It’s like he is diving in unfamiliar waters and trying to navigate his way out of it. Even though he does not understand why he wants to escape from this. It’s _warm_ just like a pleasant summer night. It’s _moist_ just like biting into a succulent watermelon. Jihoon tastes grime and salt on Junhui’s lips but it somehow melts like sugar inside his mouth, _too sweet._

He feels fire within his bones and understands the _beauty_ of being alive on this godforsaken planet. 

Jihoon unravels the tenderness of a kiss and it makes him feel good, _too good_ to be true. He needs to stop it. Just as Junhui eases a bit more into the kiss by finding purchase on Jihoon’s waist, the latter weakly shoves him back. There isn’t much force in the action but Junhui falls back regardless. 

The other man looks at him with a careful expression but benevolent eyes. Jihoon blinks several times to come back to reality. Once he feels his limbs have blood flowing back in them, he pulls his body up and walks away silently. 

Jihoon ignores Junhui for the rest of the night. But this time, it’s not out of hatred or annoyance. It’s out of complete mortification because the feeling of kissing Junhui was _one of the best_ feelings he has ever experienced. It is kind of hard to wrap his mind around the fact that looking at Junhui now _ignites_ a fire all over his face and body and prods a light sentiment inside his gut. 

He wanted Junhui to eat his own words and be the last man laughing but somehow his whole plan completely backfired on him. 

_Isn’t that lovely?_

  
  


~•~

  
  


Jihoon more or less avoids Junhui the next day. The other man catches on to his actions quickly and luckily gives him space.

Jihoon struggles with understanding his emotions as they weigh heavily on his soul and drown him in his own storm. He even stays distracted on his watch. It turns out to be one of the hardest days he’s ever had on this island.

  
  


~•~

  
  


The next night, they both occupy themselves mindlessly with their tasks after dinner. Junhui sharpens his axe with a stone and Jihoon thatches a roof, so they can use it in future to protect themselves from rain.

Other than the sound of distant waves and the crackling of the campfire, it’s quiet. _Peaceful._

“I think you’re beautiful.” Junhui breaks the silence and shatters the surrounding peace. Jihoon’s hands become motionless over the straws. It is a word that has a _significant_ weight behind it. The men of his country only use this word for their significant others or family. Its usage is quite reserved. Hearing the word come out of Junhui’s lips don’t help his internal struggle. In fact, it feels like throwing more petrol over an inferno. Jihoon tries to calm his racing heart. 

It could easily be a usage error on Junhui’s end. After all, Korean isn’t his mother tongue.

“I think the word you are looking for is good-looking.” Jihoon corrects him in a neutral voice. A small smile breaks on the other’s face instead. 

“I _know_ what the word means, Jihoon and I think _you_ are beautiful.” There is something dangerous about the way Junhui declares it with so much conviction. Those words float around Jihoon like clouds. They seem very real, but he can’t grasp it. Can't do anything about it without making a fool of himself. He wants to curse the person in charge of packing the emergency supplies because they chose not to include alcohol in it. Honestly, the alcohol would’ve helped a lot in dulling the pain and the feelings fluttering inside him simultaneously. 

They both are walking on a tightrope and there is an endless void beneath. Once they fall in it, _there is no escape._

“Can we kiss again?” Junhui brings him out of his self-deprecating thoughts by asking a ridiculous question. Although if he’s being honest with himself, the prospect of it warms Jihoon’s heart. He laughs hysterically. Guess it was all a _false alarm,_ and he was worrying over nothing.

“You don’t need to _lie_ if you want to ask for a kiss, Jun,” Jihoon informs him while putting his work aside and making his way towards him. As Junhui said two days ago, it’s only the two of them and kissing is the closest thing he’s experienced to drinking alcohol. In the end, he will accept _whatever_ helps him keep his mind off their sinister circumstance. 

He wants to be selfish and do something for himself. And Junhui offers him the chance so easily. Only a _fool_ would deny it. 

When Jihoon settles himself beside Junhui on his makeshift bed, the latter opens his mouth to basically drop the biggest bomb on Jihoon’s existence.

“Not once have I ever lied to you, Jihoon. I only asked for the kiss because I liked it and want to do it again.”

There is a _lot_ Jihoon can think and say. Instead, he wraps his hands around Junhui’s nape and pulls him in. 

This time, Jihoon knows what he has to do and doesn’t hesitate in moving his lips in sync with Junhui’s. The delicate movement from the previous kiss is transformed into desperation. Jihoon can feel Junhui’s pain through the kiss as the man grips his shoulders tightly, tugging him until he has completely melted inside Junhui’s embrace. In return, Jihoon knows that Junhui feels his pain as he practically strangles his neck just to take as much as he can. 

The _ache_ and _fear_ surround them as Junhui prods his tongue over the seam of Jihoon’s lips. Jihoon thinks the convergence of their tongues produces a euphoric feeling inside him, followed by a sense of well-being and calmness. This feeling must be _comparable_ to smoking opium in his opinion. And he can slowly feel himself getting addicted to the rush. 

The kiss makes them both uncover so much repressed want and all Jihoon wants to do is to smother the ache and forget about the horrendous things he’s witnessed. Instead of death and disorder, Jihoon wants to find warmth and happiness. 

Junhui breaks the kiss to trail his lips over Jihoon’s jaw leaving behind fiery marks. 

The other man speaks something in Mandarin—“Jihoon”—more Mandarin—“Jihoon.”

He can’t speak the same language, but he can feel the _emotion_ behind every word. It constricts his chest and a tear rolls down his eyes from getting overwhelmed by too many emotions at once. 

Jihoon can’t remember who he was in the past. Doesn’t understand who he is supposed to be right now. Can’t fathom who he’ll be in the future. All he knows is the kisses he shares with Junhui is everything that _truly matters_ at this moment.

For now, it's easy to lose himself in the tender care of another person. He didn’t know he was missing the _touch_ of another person, the _dampness_ of another's mouth, the _heat_ of a solid, living body until now. 

A feeling of longing births inside Jihoon’s heart. He ignores it because the repercussions of their future seem _deadlier_ than a mortal death.

They both kiss and kiss until they’ve practically fused together into a single entity and lie together on the solid ground. Losing track of time and reality is easy after that. 

  
  


~•~

  
  


A single turn of events can do the impossible. It can remove the lens of prejudice from Jihoon’s eyes and change every single bias he held against Junhui.

The next morning, he wakes up to quite a different picture. They both fell asleep together and Jihoon is mildly alarmed to find himself awfully close to the other. Junhui looks peaceful in his sleep, albeit his half-open eyes are a bit creepy, but with their minute distance and Junhui’s insensible state, Jihoon can finally allow himself to just look without any shame or guilt _tormenting_ him. 

Admiring Junhui comes naturally to him, and he can’t help but appreciate the numerous moles on his face along with his sharp features. If Junhui thinks that Jihoon is meant to be beautiful, then his beauty is _celestial,_ out of this world. Even with his exquisite traits, he manages to look so soft like a beautiful flower blooming in the morning.

Jihoon wants to stay like this and touch him, feel him, memorize the feeling. He resists.

There is no drastic change in their daily routine. They still work in shifts while taking their watches. Although, Junhui manages to steal passionate kisses from Jihoon every now and then. The latter barely resists and just lets the rush make him feel good. 

At night, they share light-hearted stories from simpler and calmer times. The night is filled with laughter for the first time. 

_Easy. Comforting. Assuring._

When they decide to call it a night, Junhui sneaks into his bed, and they fall asleep after sharing a tender and heated kiss. 

  
  


~•~

  
  


Reality hits Jihoon the next day.

“Don’t you think what we are doing is wrong?” Jihoon asks at night after dinner, once Junhui tries to repeat his actions from the previous night. Junhui takes a seat beside Jihoon with heavy movement and sighs deeply. 

“Why should it matter?” Junhui counters with the voice of a man who has suffered too much agony for someone his age. He has scars on his body that can’t be seen by naked eyes. A person can only feel them once they merge their soul with his and see him through his own eyes. Jihoon has only seen glimpses of them, and he can empathise because their scars _match_ somehow.

“Have you done this before?” Jihoon asks instead. 

“What? Kiss someone?” Apparently, they are playing a game of just asking questions after questions.

“No.” Jihoon already knows that Junhui has kissed someone before. It feels _wrong_ to envy someone he has never met. “I mean have you done it with a man?”

Junhui looks at him with frantic eyes “What do you think, Jihoon?” Another question. _Great._

Jihoon fumbles with his words. Junhui safes him from his misery by interrupting him.

“It’s okay. You wouldn’t be the _first_ person to insinuate it.” Junhui admits in a small voice.

“What do you mean?”

“Have you ever _looked_ at me?” Junhui asks him with a grin bleeding sarcasm. Jihoon gives him a dead look because this isn’t the time to be vain. The other man catches on fast.

“No, I’m not being narcissistic. It’s just, I’ve got used to remarks that suggest that I might have. I kind of got desensitised after hearing men getting curiously aroused by me or wishing to see my lips wrapped around their cock.” Junhui whispers, the word barely leaving his lips. And that’s when Jihoon realises how _serious_ this matter may be. Junhui tries to stay aloof but there is a depth in his words that makes Jihoon feel goosebumps rising up his arms.

“Did you just take their words quietly?”

“Oh, no! I used to beat them up before. But I stopped when I realised that all the nasty words they hurled at me was their sick and twisted way of admitting that they are attracted to a man. Attracted to _me._ And it felt like a cruel act to beat them further while they were already tormented by their inner turmoil.” Junhui says as his fingers find Jihoon’s hand. He holds them in his lap and starts tracing obscure patterns on his palm. _Pale white contrasts with golden gorgeously._

Jihoon wants to hold the fingers still in his palms and feel the heat seep through his skin till it brings warmth to his decayed bones. He doesn’t do anything and silently relishes whatever kind of touch Junhui is willing to give him.

“That is considerate of you in a strange way, Jun.” Jihoon comments. It makes the other man snort which is followed by giggles. Somehow, Jihoon finds himself smiling as well.

_“Love is love._ The notion that a man can only love a woman is something that is dictated by society because the other possibilities seem unnatural to them. For them, love can only be defined by the physical characteristics of humans. What they seem to completely ignore is that love is supposed to have multiple dimensions. It’s about finding that special connection with someone. A _bond_ between two hearts. A _promise_ between two souls. And along that journey, accepting the other, no matter how imperfect they are, with open arms and a warm smile. _Always.”_

_“Always.”_ Jihoon parrots dazedly. 

In another life, if Jihoon had heard someone speak about love so seriously, he would’ve walked away from the conversation and thought how weird the person was. They all are men of arms and love never seems like a topic anyone wants to talk about. But in this life, Jihoon feels Junhui’s warmth and wants to melt into him. He wants to stand naked in front of Junhui and show him his vulnerable self that holds so much pain. In a way, he knows that he won’t ever find the connection he has found with Junhui with someone else. 

“Besides,” Junhui’s voice brings him out of his reverie. “Forgive my crude language but it’s a traditional belief that a penis should only be inserted in a vagina. They conveniently ignore the fact that a dick can also go inside an asshole.” Jihoon turns around to notice mirth gleaming in the other’s eyes. He retracts his hands from Junhui’s palms and lets out a grunt, clearly disgusted by his sense of humour. 

But in the end, he isn’t really disgusted. On the contrary, his words make Jihoon reflect his whole life. The set of beliefs that he held dear to his heart start to crumble to dust. 

His life before coming to the island starts to feel like a fabrication from _another man’s mind._

  
  


~•~

  
  


Nothing major happens for the next couple of days. It’s peaceful and Jihoon finds himself falling _deeper and deeper._

_Harder and harder._

Trying to understand love through another man’s touch. 

  
  


~•~

  
  


Nineteen days have passed since they got stranded on this island. Their chances of making out alive seem bleak now. The ration is almost finished. Junhui finally suggests he will go on that hunt and brings back some species of lizard that is the size of a small rabbit. 

After trying to figure out how to skin or cook it for a while, they finally manage to roast it and eat. In the end, Jihoon’s stomach is full but his heart just feels terrible. At this point, he needs to accept that survival is more important than his preferences. 

Like every other night, Junhui has an _existential crisis._

“You know if we are somehow saved and are forced to fight again, I don’t know what I would do.” He says as he lies with his back to the ground and stares at the stars in the sky. Jihoon follows his gaze and looks for something intently. Like he’ll find the answers hidden somewhere between the twinkling bodies.

“I can’t kill you anymore,” Junhui confesses, his body silently singing a song of melancholy.

Jihoon feels his throat dry up. He knows that Junhui can’t, but he wants to know the reason. At this point, he will believe anything the other says to him and take it as _gospel._

“Why?” He manages to ask with a shaky breath.

“Because I _know_ you now. And I don’t want to kill someone who, in spite of everything and by that I mean every fucked up matter that tried to fester antagonism between us, stayed with me through the lonely nights. _I just can’t.”_

Jihoon thinks he understands how Junhui feels. But for all the bravery he seems to possess on the battleground, nothing seems to build up the courage he needs to voice his opinions right now.

So he lets silence fill the distance between them and hopes his _unsaid words_ are enough for now.

  
  


~•~

  
  


For a change, they both go for a swim in the ocean. It’s a cloudy day and the sun isn’t overbearing and melting their skin, so they take the opportunity to feel the salty water ease their muscles and soothe the ache. 

In other words, Junhui takes advantage of a different location and kisses Jihoon breathless as the ocean water surrounds them. Only nature and wildlife _bear witness_ to their intimate and passionate act. With the passage of time, their rough and desperate kisses have mellowed out to something that is too tender and serene for this world. 

Jihoon’s wounds have healed and even his stab wound does not hurt as much. It’s just tender to touch and Junhui leaves _commiserating kisses_ over the lesion, making him gasp like a fish for air. There are scars all over his body that will take time to fade. Some of them are scars left behind by Junhui. And in turn, the other wears scars that are a reminder of the fact that Jihoon inflicted damage to his body as well. It’s funny that they were the ones who initially _bled_ and _tore_ each other apart and now they are the ones who are healing each other with _goodwill_ and _devotion._

There are still fresh bruises on their bodies, but they have bloomed as a result of the _craving_ they have for each other. It keeps on growing as time passes and at this point, Jihoon understands a few things. One, their past will always cling to them like a leech and remind them that what they have is practically _forbidden._ Two, Jihoon has only ever found _solace_ in Junhui, and they both have somehow helped each other in fighting the demons. Three, what they have managed to build between them is so inexplicably pure, beautiful and brutally mortal that Jihoon knows that he will never find this _haven_ again. These three aspects are all that matters to Jihoon. 

But at the moment, his mind remains blank like a canvas which is being painted red by Junhui’s passion. The other man kisses him with the _fervour_ of a last kiss and the _fragility_ of a first kiss. Jihoon’s body is on fire but the ocean water and mild waves help with mitigating the heat and keeping him sane. As they both move their legs to float in water, they can’t help but move their hips against each other. It’s like their body moves on its own and it's probably the first time their kiss is turning into a venereal act but at this point, they both can’t seem to find it in themselves to give a shit. All Jihoon knows is that it feels like heaven, and he wants more and more of it.

Junhui moves his lips to Jihoon’s neck and sucks roughly, eliciting a moan from the latter which was bubbling inside his throat. 

“I love this.” He whispers over Jihoon’s skin and his breath leaves a tingling sensation behind. And then he moves back to find Jihoon’s lips and kisses him briefly just to lean back a little and look into Jihoon’s eyes, searching for something _precious_ that resides in his eyes. The latter already feels dizzy and thinks he’ll drown if Junhui lets go of him. He still manages to look into soft and dark eyes and feel his breath hitch from looking at the magnificent human in front of him.

“I think _l love you,_ Jihoon.” And with those words out in the open, Junhui dives in for another kiss. 

It takes some time for Jihoon’s brain to register the meaning of those words, even when it’s spoken in his native language. The words fall over his head like scalding water. It burns, and he breaks the kiss to look at Junhui with knitted brows.

“Are you forgetting who we are?”

A deep sigh. “The fact that I know who we are rings like a siren in the back of my head all the time. The thing is Jihoon, I _don’t_ care. I don’t want to live a lie.” 

If only Jihoon thought about their situation judiciously, he would untangle his body from Junhui’s and swim back to the shore. He has always made sacrifices for the greater good of his peers, his country, his society. But this island has taught him that he is only a human and it's normal to be selfish sometimes. And all he really wants to do is bury himself in Junhui’s broad shoulders and not care about a thing that happens tomorrow. So instead of running away, he minimises the distance between them and lets the kiss take away his agony.

  
  


~•~

  
  


“You know what’s funny?” Junhui asks as they sit on the beach in the evening, hoping to find signs of another life. At this point, it really feels like the war may have _ended_ all mankind. Nobody else survived the mass destruction. Only Jihoon and Junhui are left in this big and cruel world. _All alone._ Without proper food and shelter and no means to make it back to the mainland. Back to civilisation.

“I’m guessing, whatever you say won’t really be funny but sure, I’m listening.” Jihoon tosses back. They tried to fish in the afternoon. He is in a cheerful mood because tonight, he gets to eat fish instead of reptiles.

“You’re a smart man, Jihoon. No wonder you were promoted to be the Vice-Admiral at such a young age.” Junhui comments, wonder and pride evident in his voice. “Well, it’s funny how getting to know your enemy can bring so much change in your perspective. If only the great leaders will sincerely talk to each other over a cup of tea instead of declaring war and talking with firearms just because language _fails_ to get their points across.” 

Jihoon wholeheartedly agrees with Junhui’s opinion. 

“Do you want to know what really bothers me? If we do manage to make it out alive, I don’t really know what fight _I will_ fight.”

“What are you trying to say, Jun?”

“I think I’ll probably end up fighting everyone that stands against you, Jihoon. Wouldn’t care if they used to be _my friend or foe.”_ Jihoon’s heart stops beating for a second and then it beats so loudly that he can hear the drumming. He’s pretty sure he must look red as a tomato right now. How can he not be affected by the words Junhui says anyway? At this point, he’s basically saying that he will choose Jihoon over _the whole world._ It’s a big promise, especially when it comes from the mouth of a serviceman.

“I’ve lost the hope of making out alive from this island. It almost feels like a fever dream now.” Jihoon admits. The other just hums back and then silence engulfs them.

“Jihoon?”

“Hmm?”

“Would you kill me if we went back?” Jihoon can feel his heart bleeding out of his bones, trying to reach Junhui. He would rather _live without his heart than kill Junhui_ with his hands. Unfortunately, he fails to express that thought in words. The silence between them is deafening. 

“I would _let you_ kill me. It’s the only way that I’ll want to die anyway. By your hands.”

Before Jihoon has a chance of saying anything, tears roll down his cheeks. He cries with his whole body, shaking uncontrollably. Junhui reaches for his head and buries it in his own warm and broad shoulders. Jihoon’s sobs, even when muffled, only get _louder._

He cries because he knows he can’t kill Junhui. Can never even imagine killing Junhui. The deep-seated realisation finally sets in when he sees a single glimpse of Junhui’s lifeless body in his mind. Even when the fear fades away, the stigma remains. He raises his hands and clutches Junhui’s shirt and practically tears away the fabric with his nails. It’s a scary feeling to finally _accept_ the truth. But he can’t deny it anymore. There is a very powerful reason why he can’t kill the other.

_It’s because Jihoon is in love with Junhui._

  
  


~•~ 

  
  


On the twenty-third day of being castaways, Jihoon sits on the beach, absolutely bored out of his mind. Their ration is depleted, their clothes are tattered and their will to live is slowly dying. At this point, he wonders why they are even holding on to any hope. They might as well just live their last few remaining days in peace without bearing responsibilities.

Still, he knows that Junhui wants to believe that they will make it out of here alive, so he looks out into the horizon. Maybe it’s Jihoon’s wishful thinking but for a slight second, he feels like he sees some movement in the far off distance. At first, he shuns it as a mirage because the possibility of something real moving out there seems like a _miracle._ He rubs his eyes to make the illusion disappear. When the scene in front of him remains the same, his mouth falls open in disbelief. 

“Jun?” It barely comes out as a whisper, his body still recovering from the shock of witnessing the most unbelievable sight. He clears his throat and tries again.

_“Jun!”_ He screams at the top of his lungs, hoping the other will hear him and join him to see the most beautiful sight. Junhui comes out with concern marred over his beautiful face.

“What happened? Is everything alright?”

“Look!” Jihoon points to the boat that has got a bit bigger. It’s _getting closer._ Junhui follows his direction and gazes off into the distance.

Jihoon cannot hold his happiness and grins with all his teeth, tears prickling in the corner of his eyes. It’s a happy day. They can make it out alive. _Finally._ After three weeks, he sees the light at the end of the dark tunnel.

But something feels _off_ once he sees Junhui’s face harden. Jihoon can’t decipher the emotion behind it. It doesn’t make sense to him. Why the hell isn’t he happy?

“Shouldn’t you be happy about the fact that we can finally make it out alive, Jun?” Jihoon asks desperately, waiting for a positive response. Junhui remains stoic and doesn’t turn around to meet his eyes.

“What happens now?”

“What do you mean?” Jihoon asks a little breathlessly. Shouldn’t they be fetching the signal flashes to attract the attention of people on the boat?

“Do we go back to being _enemies_ now?”

There are _two responses_ to this question that can be answered by _two different people_ with different faiths and perception of the world.

On one hand, Jungjang Lee wants to say yes, they go back to being enemies and finally finish what they had started three weeks ago. The fight of their life that determines who gets to stand victoriously over the other’s lifeless body.

On the other hand, Jihoon reflects on everything that happened between him and Junhui on this island and how it ended up changing everything that he has ever known. And it all boils down to one thing — they stopped being enemies the moment they revealed their inner demons to each other. 

He catalogues all the things he has back in his old life — no family and no permanent house to go back to. He only has a job and the security of life that comes from it. Junhui taught him about happiness and self-acceptance and Jihoon thinks in the long run, that is all that matters.

Jungjang Lee had already died the night his fleet was attacked, and he left all his men to die just so that he could save his own life. Only Jihoon remains alive.

He looks at Junhui’s firm face and sees the ocean reflect in his eyes and it’s so blue and mesmerising. Jihoon wants to see a lot more things reflected in his eyes and spend a long time standing beside him — _two lovers in each other's arms pretending to be two brothers in arms._

All of Jihoon is all for Junhui and all of Junhui is all for Jihoon at the end of the day.

_“I love you, Jun.”_ And the guard comes off Junhui’s face and it is replaced by something so tender and open that Jihoon wants to protect that face for the rest of his life.

“I just want to finally live a life away from violence. Teach me, Jun. I own nothing back in my own country. Just a decorated title awaits me that demands destruction and misery. Teach me how to live again, _please.”_ Jihoon implores with a shaky voice, desperation bubbling through it.

Junhui stays still for a while, not willing to accept what he heard is real. He looks back at the boat now. It’s heading away from them. They need to act fast. 

“Jun, hurry up!”

“It’s a Chinese fishing boat.” Junhui comments. Then after taking a deep breath, he looks at Jihoon. “Okay, here is what we are going to do. We will tell those people that we come from a nearby fishing village and got stranded here three weeks ago.”

“I can’t speak Mandarin.” Jihoon reasons. 

“Fine, just don’t say a word. We’ll pretend that you are mute. We should ditch all the things that reveal our military background.”

“Alright, I’ll get the flare gun and throw the rest of the crates further in the forest,” Jihoon says as he runs back to their base. Junhui follows to help.

Everything else after feels like a whirlwind and Jihoon doesn’t understand more than half of it. They finally illuminated a distress signal and watched the boat change its course to sail towards the island. Jihoon and Junhui swam towards it, as the boat couldn’t dock to the beach without getting destroyed by the rocks embedded around the island. 

After finally reaching the fishing boat and climbing on to it, he hears Junhui speak to them in his native language. Words flow in and out of Jihoon’s ears, and he can’t even grasp the crux of the conversation. Someone thankfully offers him a piece of cloth to dry himself. After Junhui gains their cooperation, he settles back with Jihoon, and they sit near the tons of dead fishes. The smell of rotten fish is strong but it feels like he is finally breathing in the air of a _new life._ He isn’t bothered too much by it. 

Junhui keeps speaking to him in Mandarin to keep up the pretences. Jihoon nods his head and moves his fingers to keep up the act even if he understands nothing.

After a long, bumpy boat ride, they finally reach near shore. It’s a fishing village that slowly lights up with lanterns as the dusk approaches. Once Jihoon steps on the beach, he realises that once upon a time, this is what would be considered _stepping on the enemy’s ground_. Junhui keeps up his amiable persona and talks to the other men while Jihoon silently stays behind. 

It is chaotic and foreign. He was always told that the people who stand on the other side of the conflict will burn his body and parade the burning corpse around town in celebration. The reality is completely different, and they warmly welcome him instead. Jihoon finally knows what the warmth of a close-knit community feels like. It’s _invigorating._

Junhui finds his way back to him and walks them both a little further away from the crowd.

“They’ve given us a room to stay for a few days so that we can rest well and figure out how to find our way back home,” Junhui informs him in a low voice, careful not to let anyone hear that they are communicating in Korean.

“That’s kind of them,” Jihoon mumbles while trying to conceal his lips behind his hands.

“Also, the _war is over.”_ Jihoon gasps inaudibly at the revelation.

“How?”

“Too many civilians on both sides died because of the bombing and the situation went out of control. A truce was made four days ago.” Junhui relays back what he heard from the locals. 

If the war is over then technically, Jihoon and Junhui aren’t officially enemies anymore. 

“How far is your home from here, Jun?” Jihoon finally asks.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Isn’t that where we will go from here?”

Junhui lifts his chin up and looks at the sky. Jihoon gives him time to form a response. 

“Jihoon, by now, I am pretty sure Yideng Shiguanzhang Wen has been declared dead.” _Wen._ Jihoon finally knows that the other’s full name is Wen Junhui. Better late than never, he concludes. “I don’t want a dead man to go back to his home and frighten a mother to death. Besides, I want to be fair and have both of us start a new life together.” Junhui finishes.

“So where do we go from here?” 

A smile breaks on Junhui’s lips. It’s beautiful and relaxes Jihoon’s nerves.

“We’ll go and build _our new home_ together.”

Jihoon smiles back and nods. 

At night, in the privacy of closed doors and windows, Jihoon kisses Junhui softly, feels the solid, warm body press against him and whispers back sweetly.

“Let’s build _our new life_ together.”


	3. the aftermath of war

_December 22, 1902_

There is a house that stands alone on the outskirts of a small village, over a lonely hill, surrounded by lush green grass that stretches in all directions. It’s a beautiful, little brown cottage but big enough for the number of people that live in the house.

For the villagers, the residents of the house are two cousins who came to their village over a year ago, their original house and family destroyed in the bombings that occurred during the war. One of them is tall and friendly and owns a noodle shop in the marketplace. It has recently become the locals’ favourite food place in the village. The other one is mute and works as a carpenter, responsible for erecting new buildings and mending the old ones. 

The common verdict is that they both are generally _well-liked_ by the people. Although earlier, the villagers were _dubious_ of their sudden arrival and choice of lifestyle. People liked to talk and word quickly spread that the reason why the cousins lived away from the people in isolation was that they were doing some shady business. The village chief ordered a sudden inspection of their house only to come up with nothing. When they were asked the reason for finding a residence in the remote area, the taller one said that his cousin was unable to hold a conversation with people because of his muteness. He felt shy and usually feared social embarrassment and withdrawal from his disability. So to overcome it, they chose to live away from people so that his cousin could live a comfortable life and not despise himself every day for staying alive while the rest of their family resided in heaven above. The whole village was melted by the taller’s words and ever since then, sympathised with the cousins’ plight, always making sure to be wary of their feelings and making them always feel accepted. 

It is a well-known story in the village and travellers always get to hear this particular story first. But Jihoon knows that this whole story is _exquisite bullshit_ weaved by Junhui to fool the whole village. 

Just so people won’t raise their brows at two grown men living together, they posed as cousins (brothers being a farfetched concept because of their dissimilar face features). Having a distraught past helped them in gaining sympathy from people quickly. Initially staying as a mute person was the only viable option for Jihoon as he couldn’t speak the language, but he had all the time and a devoted teacher to help him master the language. Now staying quiet just seems convenient. And lastly, choosing an isolated house was to stay away from the nosy neighbours and having the freedom to speak in Korean without compromising the smokescreen they created. Otherwise, the proximity to other people would mean people won’t just hear one but two voices echoing in their house. _Most importantly,_ the distance from the village gives them the freedom to express their love freely. The love that is discriminated against for being ungodly. 

It’s the reason why they never draw the curtains of the room they share in the fear of being discovered by someone snooping around while they are both asleep. It means they have to sacrifice waking up to the morning sun illuminating their room. Jihoon thinks they could have it worse and their current situation isn't too bad. If he can’t wake up to sunshine, he can always walk out and enjoy the sunshine while he tends to their vegetable garden. 

In simple words, he has had a more satisfying and fulfilling life in these past seventeen months than he ever could in his twenty-five years of life before Junhui. _Life is beautiful._

Well, some days, life can be cruel.

On a lovely afternoon, he is busy repairing an old dressmaker’s shop along with his fellow workers. The customers keep coming but the kind old lady apologises to them for the inconvenience as the shop is under maintenance, and she can’t assist them for the day. It’s a normal occurrence but one particular customer’s arrival _propagates_ a hot topic for discussion among the workers. _The village chief’s daughter._

“Have you men heard the rumour running around the village about _her?”_

“Oh? The _real_ reason behind her frequent visits to the confectionery?”

“Isn’t that just an excuse to sneakily gaze at the _man_ who owns the noodle shop across the street?”

“Who can blame the woman? He’s probably the most handsome single man in our village.”

“Isn’t the owner our Zhixun’s cousin?”

“Oh, yeah! You’re right. I completely forgot!”

“What are your opinions about the fact that your cousin may marry the village chief’s daughter in the future, Zhixun?”

If only Jihoon still had his handgun, he would’ve blown each man’s brains right now. _Hell,_ he has killed men with his bare hands. He can probably mangle their heads with the hammer he is holding right now. Instead of answering, he ignores them and returns to hammering a nail on the table instead, a little too forcefully than needed. Thankfully everyone just laughs it off because they all know Jihoon isn’t going to magically talk back and impart his opinion. 

_Jealousy_ is a weird emotion. The thing is all the gossip that goes around him are just empty words. At the end of the day, it’s Jihoon who sleeps beside Junhui, warm in his arms. But to love is to be vulnerable and insecurity rushes to him so easily when he sees a prospect of life for Junhui that could be more appropriate. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth but in the end, Jihoon will give up everything for Junhui’s happiness. He’ll even give up the other person if he has to.

“If we really have to talk about handsome men in our village, isn’t Zhixun handsome as well?”

The mention of his name brings his attention back to the men’s conversation. 

“It’s a shame he can’t talk otherwise the women would be running after him as well.”

“But isn’t that the dream for women? A man who never talks back?”

“You are right! Zhixun is the _perfect man!”_

And then the men laugh boisterously, creating an absolute ruckus in the quaint shop.

After finishing up with his work, Jihoon walks back home, climbing up the hill slowly, the fatigue from the whole day setting in his muscles. Before even opening the door, Jihoon smells the delectable aroma of something cooked by Junhui. The anticipation of a lovely dinner makes him smile. 

He closes the door behind him and removes his shoes, neatly placing them beside Junhui’s. He first goes to their shared bedroom and removes his clothes and has a bath before greeting Junhui. As he walks towards the kitchen, he notices that the house is a bit messy. There is no one to be blamed here. It’s just that both the men work all day and come back home exhausted. The one day they get time to tidy up the place, they prioritise only the essential house chores like laundry and pruning and fertilising their garden. 

Junhui lights up like a lamp when Jihoon enters the kitchen but the latter is sure that his face probably mirrors the other. 

“I cooked your favourite!” Junhui chirps excitedly, his eyes sparkling under the warm hues of orange lights.

“You cook my favourite every day, Junnie,” Jihoon says with fondness dripping in his voice.

“Yeah, well. It’s not my fault you love rice so much!”

“Everyone is supposed to love rice,” Jihoon states it as the simplest fact. 

“I don’t.” Junhui counters.

“You are not considered a human.” Jihoon deadpans. Junhui’s face withers and he sits on the chair with an indignant huff. Jihoon laughs but joins him as well. Junhui easily forgets about their little spat after filling his plate with food, and they both recount their day as they enjoy the dinner.

“You know, I learnt a significant piece of news today,” Jihoon says as he munches the remaining of his rice. Junhui hums back, looking at him expectantly while he stacks the dishes over each other.

“You should marry the village chief’s daughter.” Being blunt is Jihoon’s forte. As expected, Junhui brows knit together, and he looks at Jihoon like he has said something extremely controversial and heinous.

“I mean, have you _seen_ the house, Junnie? It’s a fucking mess. We need someone that’ll take care of the house and cook food for us. And apparently, the daughter is _head over heels_ in love with you.” Jihoon explains. Junhui studies him carefully until he exhales a deep breath and looks at Jihoon with guarded eyes.

“Are you _okay_ with me marrying another person?”

“What the hell? Am I not the one who is suggesting it right now?” Jihoon asks while raising his voice. 

They both stare at each other for a moment, the tension growing steadily in the atmosphere. Junhui breaks the eye contact first and sighs.

“Jihoon, marriage means that I’ll even have to _bed_ the woman. Will you allow that to happen?” Junhui asks as he gets up from the chair and takes the soiled dishes to the sink. 

“If you sleep with anyone else, I’ll _cut your balls_ off.” Jihoon’s voice has poison laced in it, the possibility of any other human touching _his Junhui_ blinding him with hot rage. 

This time, when Junhui walks back towards Jihoon, there is a small, amused smile on his lips. 

“So you expect me to marry an innocent woman and subject her to an unhappy marriage?” Junhui asks incredulously. Jihoon shrugs because he does not want to vocalise yet that obviously, he would _never_ want to subject any woman to an unhappy marriage. 

In fact, he is not even _serious_ about this whole discussion. Junhui just smiles wider and Jihoon forgets what he was mad about in the first place.

“I must say, you have a very _weird_ way of showing your jealousy and a _cruel_ way of testing my love for you,” Junhui says as he kneels down on the floor beside Jihoon and reaches for his hands, interlocking their fingers together. And suddenly everything in the world feels _right._

“Don’t ever joke about having me marry some other person. I will always deny it anyway.” Junhui says as he looks at Jihoon with so much affection in his eyes.

“I don’t care what the world says. Your smile blooms roses in my heart. I don’t need a wife as long as I have you.” Jihoon retracts his fingers and scowls at the other.

“Don’t you dare compare me to a wife! I am a _man.”_ Jihoon argues back. Junhui leans in and rests their foreheads together. _Warmth. Home._

“Well then. Let me amend my words.” Junhui’s words brush over Jihoon’s lips. The latter closes his eyes to feel more of him. “You’re already my _husband in my heart,_ Jihoon.” 

After that, it’s easy to chase Junhui’s lips. _Soft and moist._ Exchanging secrets through the language of love and intimacy. Exchanging confessions. Exchanging vows. 

Every night, they make love tenderly as if they have come back from their holy communion, and they are making promises to stay with each other till death separates them. 

Inevitably.

  
  


~•~

  
  


_“Jihoon.”_ A desperate call tumbles from Junhui’s lips and tugs at Jihoon’s heartstrings. The latter, who was sitting upright on the bed reading, puts away the book on the nightstand and looks up at the other man, standing near the foot of the bed. His eyes seem darker than usual and his face pleads for something. _For Jihoon._

“I was beginning to wonder whether you’ll come back to bed or not. Are you done with all the work?” He asks. Junhui nods eagerly, silently beckoning him to come closer. 

It’s going to be a long night.

Jihoon complies easily though, crawling towards him and kneeling forward, trying to close the offending distance between them. Junhui is warm under his touch, too precious like this. The other wraps his hands around Jihoon’s waist and sneaks his hands under his sleep shirt. The shorter yelps from the scalding touch and then eases into it as Junhui massages his back with his fingers, working to loosen the knots.

“Don’t you think we should drink some liquor to set the mood?” Jihoon asks breathlessly as he enjoys the relaxing touch.

“And forget how your touch _lingered_ over my skin the next day? No, thank you very much for your shitty suggestion, Jihoonie.” Junhui quips as he nuzzles his nose over Jihoon’s neck. The relaxation slowly morphs into arousal.

“No, the problem with you taking your bloody time while we make love is that you think denying me of my orgasm is sensual! At least the alcohol helps in negating that mindset.” Jihoon argues back, clearly not in the mood to draw things out tonight.

“Are you seriously complaining about me being a _devoted lover?”_ Junhui asks unbelievably while he leans back a little to look at the other properly.

“No, I am complaining about you being a teasing piece of shit!” Jihoon clarifies but his sentence ends with a moan as Junhui bends down to lick a fat stripe over his neck. The taller man makes quick work of stripping Jihoon of his clothes, his fingers nimbly moving and leaving tantalising tingles all over Jihoon’s flushed skin. 

“I can hardly hold myself back when I’m with you.” Junhui answers in a raspy tone, getting aroused by Jihoon’s pale, naked body. The battle scars have faded considerably, but they are still visible, a reminder of a past that haunts them both to this day. Junhui lightly traces the scar on his left arm, his eyes holding deep repentance for his past action. 

“They don’t hurt me anymore, Junnie,” Jihoon says as he tries to tug the other’s shirt out. 

“Life can be so _cruel_ sometimes. It brought me to you but it asked me to try and kill you before learning how to love you.” Junhui speaks wistfully. 

_“Junhui.”_ His birth name drips from Jihoon’s lips like molten wax, hardening into something so profound and pretty. _One of a kind._ “Once I was able to shed my chauvinism, falling for you was the simplest thing I’ve ever done. All I am is for you.” 

Junhui wraps his fingers around Jihoon’s wrist and pulls them towards his mouth. His soft lips connect with the pulse point on Jihoon’s wrist. It’s a _ritual_ that Junhui performs every day — a wordless rite of personal devotion. An intimate way to remind himself that Jihoon’s heart beats for him. Jihoon, in turn, embraces him and places his lips on the side of the other’s windpipe, feeling his pulse and _completing_ the ritual. 

The clothes come off, and they both lay down on the bed, kissing, licking, biting and sucking, making sure to taste every inch of the skin. As much as Jihoon likes to complain about their pace, he loves rutting against Junhui, their hips rubbing against each other teasingly without any real purpose. It creates this tension that gives rise to a euphoric climax, the _afterglow_ clinging to them until they finally close their eyes to sleep. 

“Gonna make you feel so good, Jihoonie. Gonna make you see _heaven on earth,_ my love.” Junhui says as he moves down to kiss his chest. Jihoon groans in return, a voluntary noise coming from his chest as he loses himself to the gentle press of Junhui’s kiss and feels the long-lasting tingles on his skin. Junhui is meticulous while lathering Jihoon’s chest with his spit, biting his nipples teasingly and making the shorter moan from the sensitivity. And Jihoon, in turn, arches his back, his body impulsively chasing Junhui’s rose-tinted lips.

“God, Junnie.” The other’s name slips past Jihoon’s lips like the _casting of runes._ Like always, Jihoon’s ruined voice is able to bewitch Junhui and the latter stops his ministrations and separates himself to fetch the jar of vegetable oil. Before coming back, he lights a few sticks of incense and the scent of sandalwood clogs Jihoon’s nose.

“You are so beautiful, even these battle scars can’t diminish your beauty, _xingan.”_ Junhui muses while lightly spreading the oil over Jihoon’s inner thighs. He moans as Junhui presses over _marks_ left by him on previous nights, a little faded yet sensitive to touch. It’s the only place where the bruises won’t be noticed by any other set of eyes, so Junhui takes his time sucking and marking his thighs, leaving behind his evidence of love. Jihoon, in turn, becomes too desperate to find a release.

While Jihoon anticipates a finger, he gets moist warmth wrapped around his cock instead. His cock has been painfully hard all this time and ached to be touched. Jihoon gasps for air, and he squeezes his eyes shut as the muscles on his stomach clench. 

_“Jagi!”_ Jihoon cries, his voice strangled. Junhui languidly slides his mouth over Jihoon’s cock, making sure to keep the suction tight. He hums contentedly, swallowing the shorter’s length completely and making Jihoon cradle his head gently as if just a little bit of force will break him. 

Jihoon shivers underneath Junhui, chasing the heat by rolling his hips lightly. It’s soft inside his mouth and his wet tongue slides magically over Jihoon’s girth. Just as the pleasure starts taking over Jihoon, he feels Junhui’s fingers press lightly over the ring of his muscles. 

“Yes, Junnie. _Please,_ I need you.’ Jihoon begs breathlessly, feeling the tears prickle in the corner of his eyes. Junhui looks up and stares at him with hooded eyes, the lust _swirling_ in them like a cyclone. Jihoon feels the heat all over his body, _intense_ and _burning_ that easily melts him into the sheets. 

Jihoon’s body welcomes the first finger easily like the finger has finally _entered the home_ after a long day of absence. Junhui rubs along the walls and Jihoon’s voice cracks as he utters Junhui’s name in reverence. As the second finger slips in, Junhui pulls back his lips from Jihoon’s cock and climbs up his body, drawing the shorter in for a filthy, open-mouthed kiss. Jihoon tastes his own precum on Junhui’s tongue and chokes in pleasure as the other stretches his hole apart with his fingers. 

Jihoon finally feels the burn as Junhui drives his third finger in, arching off the bed and burying his face in Junhui’s neck, trying to muffle his sounds. Junhui leaves sympathetic kisses on his head as he fucks the latter with his fingers earnestly and makes him delirious.

“Junnie, I’m not a virgin. Just _take me_ already.” Jihoon chastises him because he knows he’s ready and the other is being unnecessarily scrupulous.

“But I love you like this,” Junhui replies sweetly, his eyes holding so much devotion for the other. Jihoon tries to still his foolish heart and glares at the other. Junhui smiles in return but complies and slips his fingers out, making Jihoon ache for his cock.

“Can you turn around for me, my love?” Junhui asks. Jihoon nods vigorously and turns his body and bends on his knees, raising his ass up and shaking them, knowing that it _affects_ Junhui and makes him all hot and bothered. He does receive a smack on his cheeks for trying to tease the other. 

“Don’t test me, darling, I can do this for a long time.” Junhui’s voice comes from behind, _reprimanding._

“You’re hard as well.” Jihoon scoffs.

“And, your point? I can go right now and prepare the dough and pull noodles easily.” Junhui counters. Jihoon thinks for a moment and realises that Junhui isn’t lying, and he has actually done it before when they had just moved into this house and the villagers used to be nosy bastards. They were carelessly trying to make love when there was a knock on their door. Jihoon giggles as he remembers that Junhui actually taught some middle-aged women his cooking techniques, all the while standing with an erect dick. The only reason they didn’t notice it was because Junhui was wearing a loose changshan. 

“Junnie, please. Make me yours.” Jihoon says eagerly while controlling his chuckles. 

“You are _always_ mine.” He hears Junhui speak as his back is covered in a warm embrace, plush lips gently touching his ears. 

_“Always,”_ Jihoon repeats back, no hesitation in the admission. 

He feels the tip of Junhui’s cock graze his hole and his breath hitches, mentally bracing himself. After a couple of failed tries, Junhui finally slides in home and an unbidden scream comes out of Jihoon’s throat. Junhui leaves kisses on Jihoon’s back, tracing the spine with his fingers and leaving behind a _hunger_ for something greater. 

Junhui undulates his hips almost lazily, repeating Jihoon’s name like a _mantra._ Jihoon whines and goads Junhui into increasing his pace because it is so easy to crawl under the taller’s skin and make him lose his mind.

“Junnie, you’re all I’ll ever need. Please, _show me_ that you love me as deeply. Go harder and faster.” Junhui is a fool for Jihoon’s love, and he’ll do anything the other wants. And if Jihoon asks to go harder, then Junhui will pound into him with all his strength. 

From being fucked from agonisingly slow pace to astoundingly fast, Jihoon can’t help but moan wantonly, matching the other’s pace naturally, trying to build a divine rhythm. The pleasure makes his thighs tense and his body inevitably twitches. Junhui manages to hold him steady by wrapping his arm around Jihoon’s waist, pulling the latter’s body closer to himself. 

The little change in the angle is all Jihoon needs to feel the pressure coiling inside his groins. He feels so good and overwhelmed that his hole automatically clamps down on Junhui’s cock, making the other grunt in the struggle.

_“Fuck!_ My love.” Junhui curses, his choked moans getting louder as well. The sounds dripping from their lips gels together harmonically and creates a beautiful symphony, the slap of skin on the skin giving a perfect beat to it and the creaking of the bed against the wall complementing all the other sounds. 

Junhui pulls Jihoon’s body completely so that his back is plastered with the other’s. It’s clammy because of the sweat and heat but all Jihoon wants is to melt into the hard body pressed against his. Junhui sucks at the juncture between neck and shoulder until his lips demand for slick heat, and he tips Jihoon’s chin towards him, kissing him hard and drinking all of Jihoon’s essence through this kiss.

“I thank my stars every day that someone as beautiful as you are _mine,”_ Junhui whispers into Jihoon’s mouth. The latter wounds his hands in the taller’s midnight black hair and feels the soft strands glide on his fingertips. He groans from the feeling of being filled so amazingly and it makes him feel like he would _die_ without this.

“Just a bit more, Junnie. I’m so close. Come with me.” Jihoon urges his lover with the _sweetest, wrecked_ voice he can muster.

The movement of Junhui’s hips starts to stutter as he gasps Jihoon’s name soundlessly into his mouth. Jihoon reaches for his own dick and fists himself frantically, feeling the impending orgasm submerge his senses. It’s when he finally feels Junhui slow down to deep and punctuated grinds and feels the other spill inside him, coating his walls with the thick and sticky substance, that Jihoon _loses it all_ and comes hard, his mind going on overdrive as his body trembles from aftershocks.

They both catch their breaths harshly as they fall together on the bed and cling to each other for their dear lives. Once Junhui goes soft, he pulls out with a groan and Jihoon feels his cum dribbling down his inner thighs. But more importantly, he lies down with a sated smile on his face, enjoying the _bliss_ of the afterglow. 

“We need to clean up,” Junhui announces unceremoniously. Jihoon groans and buries further into Junhui’s chest, refusing to budge at all.

“You will regret the mess in the morning, Jihoonie.”

_“Fine.”_ Jihoon resigns because he knows the other is right. Junhui leans down and leaves a kiss on his nose.

“Everything I do, it’s all for you,” Junhui says his words of affirmation with a kind smile.

“You’re the only reason I need for doing anything, Junnie,” Jihoon replies with a huge grin on his lips, his eyes twinkling in glee.

Because in the end, _‘I love you’_ seems infinitesimally diminutive for the feelings they have for each other. And even when words seem to fall short for their undying love, Jihoon knows that their hearts will cherish the other even when their soul will leave the mortal body. 

They will carry the love from _this life to next._

  
  


~•~

  
  


On one sunny, spring afternoon, when both the men had their day off, Jihoon spots a man climbing the hill and walking towards their house as he hangs the washed clothes in their backyard. As his appearance gets clearer to him, Jihoon realises he has _never_ seen the man before in his life. The first thought that comes to his mind is that he must be an inquisitive traveller who might have heard one of the many stories of the cousins in the village and came here to quench his curiosity. Jihoon stops doing his chores and walks closer toward the stranger who stands still at the perimeter of the house, inspecting it with his sharp eyes.

The stranger has striking dark hair and wears a changshan that is usually worn by _high ranking officers._ Once Jihoon realises his background, his blood turns cold. Why would a military official stand outside their home? 

Jihoon tries to keep up the play and stands in front of him silently. If the man reached here after hearing the stories, he would know that the shorter cousin is mute and can’t speak. They both stare into each other's eyes for a long-drawn-out moment and the tension starts to boil between the two. Jihoon notices a shift in the other’s blank face followed by _recognition._

“I remember you.” His voice is gentle and sweet, completely contrasting with his lethal outlook. Although his words only confuse Jihoon further because he has never seen the other’s face.

“You are Jungjang Lee.” It’s not a question, more of a statement. Jihoon tries to maintain his poker face, but he feels everything crumbling down.

_“Minghao.”_ He hears Junhui’s voice from behind, airy and cold.

Jihoon has heard the name quite a few times before. By now, he knows Junhui like the back of his hand. That also means he knows about the people Junhui associated himself with before Jihoon ever came to his life. Xu Minghao used to be Wen Junhui’s _confidant_ in another life. They both grew together, trained together, fought together and killed together. Even when their personalities were worlds apart, they had a strong bond of brotherhood. They stayed with each other through thick and thin and _promised_ to die together. Clearly, some promises were meant to be broken.

Minghao’s guarded face dissolves into something so inexplicably broken that Jihoon feels his heart clench at the sight.

“Why don’t you try to _guess_ how long I’ve been trying to locate you?” Minghao asks in a tight voice, his teeth almost gritting.

“If you are still the man that I used to know, then I believe you’ve been trying to find me ever since the war ended. For _nineteen months.”_ Junhui replies, his voice sounding distant to Jihoon’s ears.

“Yeah, nineteen months. Do you have any idea how much time that is? Do you have any idea about the _hell_ I’ve been through ever since the night when we invaded _Busan (BS 42)?_ Do you have any idea that people have been calling me a _madman_ for chasing after a _dead man?_ Huh, _gege?_ Answer me!” Minghao’s voice sounds shattered and distressed. Although even in such a frantic state, he moves fast and in the blink of an eye, he has Junhui’s collar scrunched in his fists.

Junhui stays stock still, clearly at a loss of words. 

“Minghao–” Junhui calls his name with so much sadness in his voice, it breaks Jihoon’s heart to see the _light of his life_ losing his inherent radiance.

“And _why the fuck_ have you decided to find refuge with the enemy?” Minghao spits in rage as he scowls at Jihoon, his voice laced in hatred.

“You’ve had a long journey, _my friend._ Please, you need to calm down first. Come, I’ll brew you some tea.” Junhui pleads, while he rubs Minghao’s back in comforting circles. Tears spill out of Minghao’s eyes, but he nods and lets himself be guided by Junhui. Jihoon knows he shouldn’t be jealous but Minghao never lets go of Junhui and it irks him.

After settling down inside with hot tea in everyone’s hand, Junhui finally speaks.

“Minghao, when I was declared dead by the military, why did you venture out on this stubborn journey to find me?”

“Because we made a promise to _die together,_ Junhui ge,” Minghao replies. “Your body was never found and I know you. I remembered how you criticised the leaders and wanted to be discharged. It just clicked to me that you had somehow found an escape. I just never imagined it would be with an enemy.” Minghao indirectly points towards Jihoon in disdain. It’s at this moment that Jihoon decides he does not care how Junhui feels about Minghao. If the latter tries to kill him, he won’t hesitate to _slash his neck_ with the butcher’s knife.

“If you had figured out that I had escaped then did it ever occur to you that I _didn’t want_ to be found?” Junhui asks with a frown on his face. He’s not angry, but he looks so desolate because all of a sudden, he’s forced to think about a life he left behind. It _triggers_ Jihoon to wonder about his old life as well.

This time, it’s Minghao who remains speechless as he finally discovers that the reality is much different from his own dreams. 

“So? This is it? Am I just supposed to move on from everything like it was nothing?” Minghao asks, his voice cracking in the end. He gets up from his place and looks at Junhui imploringly. “I committed twelve years of my life to you. _Twelve years, Junhui ge!_ What happened to the words you said to me — together till our last breath? Why have you forsaken me?” His voice echoes in the room. Jihoon flinches but sits quietly and clenches his fist. His patience has already started to wear thin.

Junhui sits there helplessly, looking like a defeated man. Instead of looking at Minghao, he turns his head and looks at Jihoon, silently asking for the _strength_ he needs to face the third man. Jihoon returns a fond nod and a small smile breaks on Junhui’s lips. 

“Minghao. I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me for breaking our promise. I know none of my actions is justifiable for the crimes I have committed against you. But I want you to understand that the Junhui you knew from before the war ended is _dead._ He died the minute he registered he was stranded on an uninhabited island with his adversary.” Junhui confesses. Minghao’s eyes widen in mild horror.

“Everything changed when I was forced to spend 23 days with Jihoon. Just _him and me_ on a small island trying to survive together and finding shelter in each other’s embrace. I wish I could use words that could describe what he means to me, Minghao but I hope you will understand my emotions from my unsaid words. You were always able to _read me like a book,_ anyway.” Junhui says with a finality in his voice, like he won’t be entertaining this conversation anymore. 

Jihoon can sympathise with Junhui’s pain that comes from not being able to express their love openly. 

Minghao studies them both carefully, trying to read in between the lines as Junhui suggested. Jihoon doesn’t understand what Minghao understands but with the way he finally sags in his place and lets out a deep sigh, Jihoon thinks Junhui was able to breakthrough.

“You love him,” Minghao concludes quietly.

“With everything that I’ve got and more.” Junhui finishes. There is a long-drawn silence until Minghao starts to laugh. 

“I believe Shangwei Wang will be very unhappy if he finds out that you chose to settle down with another man,” Minghao says in between his laughter. Apparently, it's an _inside joke_ between the other two because Junhui joins him, and they let the laughter defuse the tension in the room.

Minghao doesn’t stay for long after that. Once he starts to get ready for his departure, Jihoon interrupts him.

“Forgive me for asking but can you tell me about this particular man from my squadron?” Jihoon asks carefully.

“Name?”

“Daeryeong Kwon.” Minghao thinks hard for a minute all the while wearing his shoes in the entryway.

“If my memory serves me right, he was probably captured and kept as a _prisoner of war._ After the war ended, he was released. If he has managed to not get into any kind of trouble, I believe your man might be _alive_ somewhere.” Minghao answers. 

A wave of relief washes over Jihoon’s conscience as he grasps Minghao’s words. If Junhui had his Minghao then Jihoon had his Soonyoung. Jihoon is just glad that the _idiot_ might be breathing as of right now. He’ll take this piece of information over uncertainty any day.

Jihoon and Junhui walk down the hill with Minghao to see him off. At the bottom of the hill, Minghao turns towards Jihoon and gives him a cordial smile.

“Even if I’ll take my time in _accepting_ your bond with him, I wish you both have a good life ahead,” Minghao says to Jihoon. The latter nods, returning a smile.

“You, too. I hope you find happiness.” Jihoon says honestly. God knows that the other man deserves one after all he’s been through.

With a last nod, Minghao turns around and starts walking away from the two. They watch Minghao leave wordlessly, the evening sun elongating his shadow by his side.

Once Minghao is far away, Junhui calls his name. “Jihoon-ah?”

“Hmm?”

“You love this place a lot, right?”

Jihoon turns around to look at the green fields with fond eyes.

“Yeah.”

“Then I hope you’ll forgive me for making us move to a new place.”

Jihoon understands Junhui’s plea. Their whereabouts have been compromised. And if Minghao was able to find them, then who is to say that the military hasn’t been tracking Minghao’s movement all this time? Minghao could overlook their situation because of his past affiliations with Junhui. Any other person won’t be as forgiving. 

Nobody had ever said that love was an _easy thing._ But as long as Jihoon has Junhui by his side, he will be able to _endure_ the worst storms life throws at him. 

“It’s alright. I will follow you to the ends of the earth.” Jihoon replies as he interlaces their fingers together. The warmth seeps through and thaws all his worries away. 

“Any specific place in mind?” Junhui asks as they walk back towards their house, hand in hand.

“I was thinking mountain life will suit us,” Jihoon suggests, too used to living along the ocean.

“To the south!”

“And this time, I refuse to be the mute cousin. In fact, leave the details of our background story to me.” Jihoon says. Junhui looks at him smugly, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Sure. Let’s see how good you are at weaving a story.” _Déjà vu._ Jihoon stays silent, already looking forward to the new life with a huge smile on his face. A life where he knows what warmth and happiness feels like, and he does not feel empty inside. A life where he can live as _one_ because his _other half_ is with him. 

Always.

**Author's Note:**

> shangwei: senior officer
> 
> if you reached the end, then thank you for reading!  
> please let me know if you liked it by sparing kudos and comments ♥  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/redsyub) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/redsyub)


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